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JOURNEYING  ROUND  THE  WORLD 


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Journeying  Round  the  World 

A  Narrative  of  Personal  experience 


by 
SYDNEY  FORD 


GRAFTON  PUBLISHING  COMPANY 
LOS  ANGELES,  CALIFORNIA 


Copyright  1913 
by 

HENRIETTA     B.     FREEMAN 

(Sydney  Ford) 

Lios    Anseles,    Cal. 
V.    S.   A. 


All  Rights  Reserred 


:^ 

^  CONTENTS 

d  SUBJECT  PACE 

'   Travelers,  and  Traveling  Togs 9 

^  Some  Seasonable  Specifics 22 

\   Honolulu,  the  Happy  Haven 29 

!  In  ]\rid-ocean 44 

Land  of  the  'Riksha 49 

Shanghai,  the  Paris  of  the  Pacific 66 

Up  the  Yangtze 70 

^y^ailing  Toward  the  Equator 75 

Ceylon's  Spicy  Breezes 82 

The  Red  Sea 88 

^N  Cairo,  City  of  Mosques,  Minarets  and 

Mosquitoes  93 

,  The  Pyramids  of  the  Pharoahs 102 

^  The  Port  of  Palestine 107 

O^erusalem  and  Jericho 118 

Europe,  the  World's  Playground 123 

^"^oney,  the  World  Around 137 

Tips  and  Tipping 143 

^Foreign  Food 152 

Types  of  Travelers 159 

[omeward  Bound 168 


\ 


FOREWORD 

I  have  made  no  attempt  in  these  pages 
to  give  an  exhaustive  account  of  a  tour 
around  the  world,  but  merely  to  present 
some  features  of  the  trip,  and  to  offer  some 
suggestions  that  ma}^  be  of  value  to  others 
who  are  about  to  embark  on  a  similar 
"swing  around  the  circle." 

THE  AUTHOR 


Travelers  and  Traveling  Togs. 

"Come,  go  'round  the  world  with  us," 
urged  a  voice  over  the  telephone  one  rainy 
evening  in  February. 

"Certainly,"  I  called  back  without  hesi- 
tation. "When  do  we  sail — tomorrow 
morning'?" 

I  had  about  as  much  notion  of  going  as 
you  have  of  crossing  the  Pacific  in  an  aero- 
plane this  minute,  but  such  is  the  versatility 
of  human  affairs  and  the  variableness  of  the 
average  woman's  mind  that,  four  weeks 
from  that  very  night  I  found  myself  on 
l)oard  ship,  bound  on  a  tour  the  big  world 
around. 

Of  course  the  intervening  weeks  had  been 
full  of  the  excitement  of  preparation. 

"You're  entitled  to  three  hundred  pounds 
of  baggage  apiece,"  observed  the  steamship 
agent  encouragingly.  "Take  along  all  the 
ti'unks  you  want." 

"Oh,  happy  day!"  exclaimed  Peggy;  "no 
excess  baggage — ^liow  perfect!}^  glorious." 

Sounds  well,  doesn't  if?  But  oh,  my 
friends,  beware  the  voice  of  the  tempter,  for 


10  Journeying   Round    the    World 

once  you  get  in  foreign  lands,  believe  me, 
there's  trouble  ahead,  and  plenty  of  it,  for 
the  unwary  traveler  who  indulges  in  ward- 
robe trunks,  hat  boxes,  five-pound  illus- 
trated guide-books,  cut-glass-silver-topped 
out-fitted  suit  cases,  and  all  the  luggage  lux- 
uries that  may  be  safely  included  in  a  300- 
pound  limit. 

Over  there  baggage  has  a  way  of  making 
itself  a  perfect  nuisance.  They  don't  have 
our  American  checking  system  whereby  you 
simply  produce  a  pasteboard  slip  and  claim 
your  baggage,  or  make  it  hot  for  the  rail- 
road officials.  On  the  contrary,  you  cannot 
check  your  trunks  at  all,  but  have  to  pay 
their  fares  instead,  and  watch  over  them  as 
carefully  and  tenderly  as  if  they  were  your 
precious,  helpless  children.  Indeed,  I  never 
in  my  life  beheld  such  utterly  helpless 
trunks  as  those  I  encountered  in  Europe. 
You  have  to  see  that  they  are  properly 
weighed  and  then  pay  their  fares  at  so  much 
per  pound;  then  you  have  to  see  that  they 
are  loaded  on  a  truck,  and  tip  the  man  who 
does  it,  and  watch  that  they  are  put  on  the 
same  train  as  yourself,  and  you  have  to  crane 
your  neck  out  the  car  window  at  interven- 
ing stations,  to  see  that  your  trunk  does  not 


Travelers,   and   Traveling   Togs  1  1 

get  off,  and  when  you  reach  your  destina- 
tion, you  must  see  that  your  trunk  disem- 
barks too.  And  the  more  trunks  you  have, 
the  more  you  have  to  watch — and  pay  fares 
for.    So  be  a  bit  chary  about  baggage. 

I  remember  that  Peggy  insisted  on  taking 
her  trunk  up  to  Cairo  from  Port  Said  in- 
stead of  storing  it  there  with  the  rest  of  our 
big  baggage  while  we  ran  up  to  look  at  the 
Pyramids,  the  mosques  and  the  minarets  for 
a  few  days  before  embarking  for  Palestine. 
The  railroad  fare  for  that  trunk  was  exactly 
one-half  of  Peggy's  personal  fare. 

Fancy  an  inanimate  trunk  costing  as 
nuich  as  a  human  child  to  transport!  But 
such  was  the  mournful  fact,  and  Peggy  dis- 
puted with  the  Arab  official  in  vain.  Not  a 
single  piastre  less!  In  Germany,  Italy  and 
Switzerland  you  must  pay  for  every  pound 
of  baggage  you  check;  in  England  you  are 
allowed  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds,  on 
first  class  ticket ;  in  France  and  Spain  sixty- 
six  pounds;  in  Russia  thirty-six  pounds,  and 
in  other  European  countries  fifty-five 
pounds  on  through  routes.  If  you  wish  to 
stop  off,  as  most  tourists  do  in  passing 
through  these  countries,  then  you  are  al- 
lowed no  extra  baggage. 


12  Joumey^ing   Round   the    World 

On  the  contrary  you  may  carry  all  the 
hand  baggage  you  like  as  the  allowance  in 
this  particular  is  practically  limitless,  each 
railway  train  being  amply  provided  with 
huge  racks  for  holding  it,  and  porters  can  be 
obtained  anywhere  and  everywhere  who  will 
tote  bags,  suit  cases,  and  sachels  for  a  fee 
of  three  cents  in  U.  S.  money  for  each  piece 
of  baggage. 

Therefore,  do  not  wax  too  enthusiastic 
over  the  gay  and  glimmering  prospect  held 
out  so  alluringly  by  the  steamship  agent. 
Rather  calculate  carefully  the  garments  you 
must  have  in  order  to  be  comfortable,  and 
then  pack  compactly  in  as  small  a  space  as 
possible.  The  36-inch  steamer  trunk  is  by 
all  means  most  desirable.  It's  siu"prising 
how  much  difference  a  few  inches  makes. 
One  of  our  party  came  to  grief  early  in  our 
preparations  and  was  compelled  to  purchase 
a  second  trunk  because  a  30-inch  trunk  was 
selected  in  the  first  place.  You'll  be  aston- 
ished when  you  come  to  pack  to  find  how 
you  miss  those  extra  six  inches. 

The  advantage  of  a  yard-long  trunk  is  that 
your  skirts  and  dresses  will  lie  almost  at  full 
length  which  does  away  with  the  extra  thick- 
ness of  doubling  over,  and  makes  a  lot  of  dif- 


Travelers,  and   Traveling   Togs  13 

ference  in  the  amount  you  can  stow  away  in 
the  trunk.  Peggy  had  what  she  called  a 
"dress  rehearsal"  a  day  or  two  before  we  left 
home,  and  actually  accomplished  the  feat  of 
packing  away  in  her  36-inch  trunk,  eight 
gowns,  her  long  pongee  coat,  sweater,  shoes 
and  slippers  and  six  shirt  waists — not  to 
mention  a  lot  of  little  things.  Jack  asked 
her  why  she  didn't  include  an  aeroplane, 
electric  car  and  steamer  rug. 

Don't  commit  the  error  either  of  getting 
a  trunk  too  long  to  fit  under  the  berth  in 
your  cabin.  I  shared  a  state-room  during  a 
part  of  our  journey  with  such  an  one  and  the 
protruding  end  of  that  abominable  trunk — it 
had  to  be  shoved  under  sideways — was  re- 
sponsible for  more  bruised  shins,  lacerated 
feelings  and  inarticulate  profanity  than  I 
would  like  to  record. 

For  the  month  before  my  departure,  every 
mail  brought  letters  containing  timely  hints 
for  comfort  and  convenience  on  the  voyage, 
and  three  months  after  my  departure,  when 
I  was  in  Rome,  a  package  of  twenty-five  let- 
ters was  forwarded  to  me  which  had  accu- 
mulated since  I  left  home.  All  of  these,  with 
the  exception  of  two  or  three  personal  let- 
ters, were  advertisements  from  hotels  all 


14  Journeying    Round    the    World 

over  the  country,  recipes  for  sea-sick  speci- 
fics, etc. 

"Shan't  we  send  you  some  face  cream  and 
wonder  salve,  put  up  in  collapsible  tubes  es- 
pecially for  traveling?"  wrote  one  enterpris- 
ing firm. 

"I  am  forwarding  you  some  tooth  paste  in 
tubes"  caroled  another. 

"You  will  need  a  hot  water  bag,"  advised 
a  third,  "best  preventive  for  seasickness — 
can't  get  'em  abroad." 

' '  Be  sure  and  get  one  of  those  nail  buffers 
with  a  removable  top — the  kind  that  has  all 
the  manicure  tools  inside"  counseled 
another. 

Some  one  told  Peggy  to  take  along  a  big 
bottle  of  Worcestershire  sauce  to  ward  off 
seasickness,  and  the  poor  child  did.  That 
bottle  of  perfectly  good  sauce  found  a 
watery  grave  in  the  bottom  of  the  ocean 
when  we  were  two  days  out  of  San  Fran- 
cisco.   Peggy  flung  it  through  the  port-hole. 

"Be  sure  and  take  a  stunning  evening 
gown,"  advised  a  friend  who  had  made  the 
round-the-world  journey  ahead  of  me. 
"You'll  regret  it  if  you  don't.  Take  the  one 
you  have  on." 

It  was  at  a  reception — a  fashionable  func- 


Travelers,   and    Traveling    Togs  1 5 

tion — that  this  conversation  took  place  just 
previous  to  my  departure,  and  I  had  donned 
my  very  best  for  the  occasion.  Unfortunate- 
ly, I  followed  the  advice  of  my  well-meaning 
friend  and  took  along  my  French  crepe 
gown,  with  its  train,  its  silver  net  trimmings 
and  chiffon  sleeves. 

I  wore  it  three  times — once  at  the  cap- 
tain's dinner  the  night  before  we  reached 
Japan;  once  in  Yokohama,  the  night  the  Im- 
perial Military  Guards  band  came  down 
from  Tokyo  and  played  during  dinner  at  our 
hotel;  and  once  somewhere  down  in  the  In- 
dian Ocean — I  forget  just  where — but  it 
was  at  a  ball  on  shipboard,  and  the  tempera- 
ture was  like  unto  that  of  the  equator  which 
we  were  fast  approaching. 

That  gown?  Well,  you  should  see  it — I 
preserve  it  as  a  picturesque  ruin  and  an  aw- 
ful warning.  The  salt,  sea  air,  the  equato- 
rial heat  and  humidity,  the  Straits  Settle- 
ment atmosphere  and  the  Ceylon  sun  didn't 
do  a  thing  but  change  its  color  from  a  pale, 
shimmering  blue,  to  a  pensive  gray.  It  is 
beautifully  flecked  all  over  with  spots  in  a 
queer  shade  of  pink — souvenirs  of  the  salt, 
sea  spray.  The  silver  lace  has  turned  to  a 
dull,  oxidized  tint,  and  the  soft  crepe  and 


16  Journeying   Round   the    World 

chiffon  is  a  hopeless  mass  of  wrinkles.  In 
short,  it's — oh  well,  what's  the  use*? 

I  want  to  quote  one  other  awful  example, 
and  that  is  the  woman  who  went  to  the  other 
extreme  and  thought  her  last  year's  second 
best  tailor  gown,  a  cheap  sweater,  an  old 
rain-coat,  and  her  year-before-last  hat 
plenty  good  enough  for  ship  wear.  Her  tail- 
ored gown  showed  the  faded  cotton  thread 
it  was  stitched  with,  her  sweater  was  of  the 
$1.98  type — and  it  looked  it — ^her  rain-coat 
was  miles  too  big  for  her  and  had  holes  in 
it  when  she  started,  her  dinner  gown  was  an 
old  summer  silk  so  frayed  and  worn  that  she 
could  scarcely  be  hooked  into  it — and  her 
hat!  It  was  a  sight,  with  its  faded  straw, 
its  rusty  black  velvet  and  soiled  white  wing. 
She  took  along  an  old  blanket  shawl  for  a 
steamer  rug,  and  the  lining  of  her  lace 
blouse  was  in  rags.  She  was  wearing  out  her 
old  clothes — and  everybody  knew  it,  for  the 
pitiless  white  glare  on  deck  called  loud  at- 
tention to  each  discrepancy. 

No,  don't  be  foolish,  but  pack  away  your 
best  evening  gowns  in  tissue  paper  and  leave 
them  at  home.  Get  yourself  a  little  silk  or 
voile  gown,  simply  but  smartly  made,  of  a 
material  that  will  not  muss,  crush  or  wrinkle 


Travelers,  and   Traveling   Togs  1  7 

easily — the  sort  that  shakes  out  and  bobs 
back  into  slickness  and  smoothness  the  min- 
ute you  take  it  out  of  your  suit  case  or 
steamer  trunk.  A  woman  whom  I  met  on 
the  Atlantic  liner  on  which  I  made  my  pas- 
sage from  Liverpool  to  New  York,  and  who 
had  crossed  the  ocean  many  times,  told  me 
that  the  most  satisfactory  material  she  had 
found  for  a  dinner  or  evening  gown  in  trav- 
eling was  crepe  de  chine,  of  a  quality  of  suf- 
ficient body  to  shake  itself  free  of  wrinkles. 

Then  take  along  one  or  two  pretty  silk  or 
net  waists,  to  wear  with  that  black  silk  skirt 
that  every  woman  has  hanging  in  her  closet. 
In  addition  to  these,  a  smart  and  perfectly 
fitting  tailor-made  suit  and  a  trotteur  skirt 
of  shantung  or  brilliantine  or  some  material 
that  sheds  the  dust.  These  are  all  the 
dresses  you  need,  and  with  these  four  and  no 
more,  you  may  journey  the  world  around 
and  arrive  in  that  Paris  of  the  Orient. 
Shanghai;  in  Hongkong,  in  Cairo,  in  Jerusa- 
lem, in  Rome,  in  Paris  or  in  London,  feeling 
that  you  are  well  clad  and  equal  to  any  emer- 
gency— except  perhaps  a  presentation  at 
court,  in  which  case  you  can  patronize  the 
Parisian  or  London  shops — you  will  anyhow, 


18  Journeying   Round    the    World 

for  you'll  want  to  replenish  your  wardrobe 
a  bit  by  the  time  you  get  there. 

As  to  shirt  waists,  follow  the  advice  of 
Lillian  Bell  and  leave  your  dainty  pink-and- 
blue,  made-to-order  linen  waists  at  home  and 
take  plain  pongee  or  silk  waists  that  do  not 
have  to  be  laundered.  You  can  cover  the 
holes  with  medallions  as  fast  as  they  appear. 
In  this  way  your  plain  silk  blouses  will  be 
elaborate  evening  bodices  by  the  time  you 
get  back  and  you'll  have  to  be  a  bit  careful 
not  to  strain  them  when  you  reach  up  to 
turn  on  the  electric  lights. 

Be  extravagant  in  shoes.  Take  along  at 
least  four  pairs,  for  the  Oriental,  English 
and  French  shoes  are  not  made  to  fit  Amer- 
ican feet,  and  you  must  therefore  provide 
yourself  with  enough  to  last  the  journey 
through.  Then  you  will  need  a  long,  rather 
loose-fitting  motor  coat — thick  and  warm — 
large  enough  to  wear  a  sweater  underneath. 
Don't  smile!  You'll  need  it,  for  you've  no 
idea  how  chilly  it  gets  on  deck  when  the  sea 
breezes  blow,  and  the  best  possible  safe- 
guard against  seasickness  is  to  keep  warm 
and  comfortable. 

Make  yourself  the  prettiest  deck  bonnet 
you  can  conjure  up.     Use  a  chiffon  motor 


Travelers,  and   Traveling   Togs  19 

veil  and  shir  it  softly  over  a  wire  frame, 
hood-fashion — and  leave  the  long  scarf  ends 
to  float  in  the  breeze.  The  prettiest  deck 
hood  I  saw  the  world  around  was  worn  by 
a  San  Francisco  girl  en  route  to  the  Philip- 
pines. It  was  a  pale  blue  chiffon  veil  cun- 
ningly shirred  into  a  charming  bonnet,  and 
a  wreath  of  tiny  pink  rosebuds  nestled  de- 
murely under  the  shallow  poke  brim. 

Do  not  burden  yourself  with  stationery  or 
a  wi'iting  portfolio — all  such  materials  are 
supplied  in  abundance  by  the  steamship 
company  in  the  writing  rooms.  If  possible, 
pack  all  the  things  you  will  need  for  the 
ocean  trip  in  your  suit  case  and  traveling 
bag,  and  send  your  steamer  trunk  down  into 
the  hold.  It  takes  up  room  in  your  cabin, 
even  if  it  is  shoved  under  the  berth,  and  be- 
sides, you  need  that  space  for  your  hand  bag- 
gage. Carry  your  steamer  rug,  motor  coat, 
sweater  and  extra  wraps  in  a  hand  strap  or 
English  "hold-all,"  and  this  last  is  the  most 
practical  and  accommodating  piece  of  bag- 
gage I  have  ever  found.  It  has  ample  pock- 
ets inside  where  you  can  pack  shoes  and  all 
the  bulky  things  that  take  up  so  much  room 
in  a  trunk.  The  hold-all  is  rightly  named, 
for  it  has  the  most  surprising  capacity  for 


20  Journey)mg   Round    the    World 

expansion.  Into  its  capacious  maw  can  go 
all  the  innumerable  things  that  bear  bang- 
ing and  you  can  bulge  it  out  to  the  size  of 
an  ordinary  steamer  trunk. 

Be  sure  to  put  inside  your  steamer  rug  a 
little  soft,  down  pillow.  You've  no  idea 
what  a  comfort  it  is  to  slip  behind  your  head, 
or  tuck  under  your  neck  when  you  lie  in  your 
steamer  chair  on  deck. 

Take  along  some  light  literature  if  you 
like  to  read,  or  some  fresh  and  breezy  little 
books  of  travel.  All  the  steamships  have  li- 
braries well  stocked  with  standard  fiction, 
biography  and  travel  books,  but  not  of  the 
latest  vintage.  Usually  the  passengers  are 
permitted  the  free  use  of  the  library.  Some- 
times a  small  fee  is  required,  and  you  may 
be  asked  to  put  up  a  deposit  as  a  guaranty 
of  safe  return  of  books. 

When  you  get  down  in  the  Indian  Ocean 
and  haven't  seen  an  English  newspaper  for 
weeks,  and  are  wondering  what  on  earth 
may  have  happened  at  home,  you've  no  idea 
how  you'll  grab  Renter's  telegrams  when 
brought  on  board  at  Penang  or  Ceylon. 
They  look  like  galley  proofs  and  contain  tel- 
egraphic briefs  of  the  latest  news.  You  can 
buy  a  bunch  for  a  shilling,  covering  several 


Travelers,   and   Traveling    Togs  21 

days  back,  and  you'll  jump  at  the  chance 
just  to  see  what's  happened  since  you  left 
land.  I  distinctly  recollect  when  we 
reached  this  point  in  our  journey,  and  had 
been  sailing  for  two  weeks,  that  our  stock 
of  American  news  consisted  of  exactly  two 
items — the  death  of  Mark  Twain,  which  we 
had  read  in  a  Shanghai  paper,  and  the  fact 
that  Roosevelt  had  refused  an  audience  with 
the  Pope,  which  caught  us  somewhere  in 
mid-ocean  by  wireless  I  believe. 


Some  Seasonable  Specifics. 

Of  the  three  trans-Pacific  lines,  we  chose 
the  southernmost  for  two  reasons:  First, 
because  we  sailed  in  mid-March,  and  we 
wished  to  court  the  soft  southern  breezes 
rather  than  the  wilder  winds  and  waves  of 
the  north,  and,  second,  because  we  wanted 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  Uncle  Sam's  string  of 
islands  away  out  two  thousand  miles  in  mid- 
ocean  and  pay  our  respects  to  Honolulu — 
the  Pearl  of  the  Pacific. 

After  events  proved  the  wisdom  of  our 
decision,  for  a  party  of  thirty  Los  Angeles 
people  who  sailed  from  Seattle  a  few  days 
later,  skirting  the  Aleutian  Islands,  encoun- 
tered rain,  hail,  snow,  blustering  winds  and 
mountain  billows  nearly  all  the  way  across, 
sailing  into  Yokohama  fifteen  days  later 
with  every  inch  of  canvas  spread,  an  eight- 
een-inch  hole  in  the  bottom  of  the  ship,  and 
half  her  rudder  gone.  Most  of  the  passen- 
gers sang  one  song  all  the  way  over,  and  that 
was,  ''When  the  Breezes  Blow  I  Go  Below." 

The  straight  across  route  from  San  Fran- 
cisco to  Yokohama  is  the  most  direct — also 

22 


Some  Seasonable  Specifics  23 

the  most  void  of  sight-seeing,  if  you  except 
porpoises,  aud  an  occasional  shark,  or  whale, 
or  other  deep-sea  monster — a  route  absolute- 
ly devoid  of  thrills — an  excellent  route  for 
freight  steamers. 

Our  way  lay  over  sunny  seas  and  through 
tropical  temperature  after  we  had  left  be- 
hind the  "moaning  at  the  bar"  of  San  Fran- 
cisco, and  our  stop  at  Honolulu  of  twenty- 
four  hours  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  ex- 
periences of  the  entire  trip.  Owing  to  the 
fact  that  we  sailed  out  of  San  Francisco  har- 
l)or  with  practically  empty  holds,  our  pas- 
sage was  less  steady  than  it  would  have  been 
under  ordinary  conditions.  A  tremendous 
storm  that  interfered  with  railroad  traffic 
had  held  back  the  cargo  of  freight  destined 
for  our  ship,  hence,  instead  of  acting  as  bal- 
last for  us  in  the  yawning  depths  below 
decks,  it  was  marooned  somewhere  up  in  the 
Rocky  mountains  or  out  on  the  Mojave 
desert. 

It  therefore  happened  that,  soon  after 
crossing  the  bar  from  San  Francisco,  the 
decks  became  suddenly  and  suspiciously  de- 
serted, and  that  night  at  dinner,  the  dining- 
saloon,  which  is  the  pulse  of  the  passenger 
list,   had   far   more   vacant   than   occupied 


24  Journe})mg   Round   the    World 

seats.  Many  of  the  passengers,  for  reasons 
best  known  to  themselves,  had  sought  the 
seclusion  of  their  cabins,  there  to  remain  in- 
definitely, for  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  ac- 
cording to  their  ability  as  sailors. 

This  secluding  yourself  in  your  cabin  is  a 
mistake,  for  there  is  no  better  antidote  for 
seasickness  than  a  stiff  sea  breeze.  Your 
best  salvation  therefore,  is  to  stick  to  your 
steamer  chair  on  deck  to  the  last  gasp,  and 
avoid  the  closeness  of  the  cabin  as  you 
would  a  pestilence.  However,  one  appreci- 
ates the  feeling  of  delicate  reserve  that  ac- 
tuates most  victims  for  if,  in  all  your  experi- 
ence, there  are  moments  when  you  wish  to 
be  alone,  surely  one  of  them  is  when  you 
are  suffering  the  pangs  of  seasickness. 

**New  things  are  continually  coming  ujj," 
as  one  of  our  party  facetiously  observed, 
and  that's  altogether  the  wisest  plan — let 
'em  come  up. 

''Just  yap  it  up,  sonny,"  was  the  sage  ad- 
vice given  by  a  mother  to  her  offspring  as 
he  lay  gritting  his  teeth  with  a  look  of  grim 
determination  on  his  yellow  cast  of  coun- 
tenance. 

If  there's  any  known  specific  for  seasick- 
ness, I've  never  found  it.    A  doctor  told  me 


Some  Seasonable  Specifics  25 

a  funny  story  of  a  brother  physician  who 
wrote  him  on  board  an  Atlantic  liner  as  she 
was  nearing  port  on  the  other  side. 

"Old  fellow,"  he  wrote;  "I've  discovered 
the  most  wonderful  remedy  for  seasickness 
you  ever  saw.  Perfectly  marvelous — settles 
the  stomach  in  no  time — regulates  digestion 
in  the  most  miraculous  manner — it's  a  posi- 
tive specific.  I  have  a  package  with  me  that 
T  got  in  New  York  just  before  sailing,  and  if 
my  stomach  ever  gets  settled  enough  so  I 
can  take  a  dose  I  know  I'll  feel  better.  We 
are  due  in  Liverpool  tomorrow  morning, 
thank  God." 

Perhaps  it  is  not  until  the  stewardess 
ducks  her  head  inside  your  cabin  door  and 
threatens  you  with  a  concoction  of  raw  eggs 
and  Worcestershire  sauce  that  you  consent 
in  self  defense  to  leave  your  state  room  and 
go  on  deck.  There  you  lie,  very  limp,  very 
miserable,  and  wholly  wretched  in  yoiu' 
steamer  chair,  your  listless  eyes  fixed  on  the 
distant  horizon  where  the  boundless  sea 
meets  the  sky,  and  your  unhappy  mind 
dwelling  on  the  utter  impossibility  of  ever 
reaching  shore  alive. 

You  wonder,  weakly  and  vaguely,  how  on 
earth  you  were  ever  persuaded  to  leave  your 


26  Journeying   Round   the    World 

happy  home  and  undertake  a  tour  around 
the  world,  and  when  you  reflect  that  nearly 
all  of  the  journey  must  be  by  water,  your 
very  soul  grows  sick  and  faint  with  appre- 
hension. You  speculate  on  the  bare  possi- 
bility of  reaching  Honolulu  alive,  and  shud- 
der at  the  thought  of  being  buried  at  sea. 
It  doesn't  seem  possible  that  you  can  sur- 
vive many  days  at  this  rate. 

Gradually,  you  begin  to  take  a  little  no- 
tice of  your  fellow  passengers,  and  you  feel 
impatient  with  the  thoughtless  girl  who  can 
laugh.  You  are  sure  you  will  never  smile 
again.  In  fact,  you  have  lost  your  sense 
of  humor  completely — and  is  there  a  sadder 
spectacle  in  all  the  world  than  the  man  or 
woman  who  has  no  sense  of  humor  which, 
the  poet  sajs,  "rainbows  the  tears  of  the 
world?" 

All  this  is  a  very  solemn  experience,  but 
cheer  up  mate,  it's  not  at  all  alarming.  You 
are  merely  getting  your  sea  legs,  in  the  lan- 
guage of  the  old  salt.  In  three  or  four  days 
at  the  outside,  you  have  literally  buried  your 
seasickness,  and  are  promenading  the  deck 
with  the  regulation  steamer  stride.  This 
particular  gait  by  the  way,  is  in  a  distinct 
class  by  itself.     As  you  have  lain  in  ^^our 


Some  Seasonable  Specifics  27 

steamer  chair  during  the  days  of  your  con- 
valescence and  lazily  watched  the  passing 
promenaders  you  have  wondered  why  on 
earth  every  one  goes  galloping  along,  head 
l)itched  well  forward,  as  if  breasting  a  head 
wind,  and  walking  as  though  they  were  rac- 
ing to  make  a  train.  Wlien  3'ou  try  it  your- 
self you  understand.  It's  merely  balancing 
the  body  against  the  motion  of  the  steamer 
— getting  your  sea  legs.  You  fill  your  lungs 
with  the  good,  salt  sea  air;  you  take  an  ac- 
tive interest  in  the  deck  games,  and  join  the 
tournament  in  the  egg  or  potato  race  for 
honors.  Your  appetite  returns  ten-fold,  and 
you  feel  quite  equal  to  the  numerous  meals 
served  on  ship-board,  beginning  with  coffee 
and  fruit  in  your  cabin  at  7,  breakfast  at  8, 
hot  broth  and  biscuits  on  deck  at  11,  lunch 
at  12:30,  tea,  sandwiches  and  cake  at  4,  din- 
ner at  7:30  and  a  light  lunch  for  a  night-cap 
at  10:30. 

As  you  sail  toward  the  Hawaiian  Islands 
you  will  notice  how  intensely  blue  the  ocean 
is.  You  first  observe  this  when  you  are  a 
day  or  two  out  from  the  islands  and,  as  you 
sail  nearer  and  nearer,  the  waters  turn 
bluer  and  bluer  till  they  are  about  the  same 
indigo  tint  as  those  of  the  famous  Blue  Grot- 


28  /ourneping   Round    the    World 

to  on  the  island  of  Capri,  which  you  will 
visit  during  your  stay  in  Naples  later  on 
in  your  journey. 


Honolulu,  the  Happy  Haven. 

"Looks  just  like  Catalina,"  we  Calif or- 
iiians  chorused  as  the  Hawaiian  Heights 
loomed  up  out  of  the  sea.  It  was  10  o'clock 
in  the  morning  on  our  seventh  day  out  from 
San  Francisco,  and  at  the  first  cry  of  "land," 
the  hig  ship  became  a  human  bee-hive.  Spy 
glasses  were  brought  into  play  and,  as  the 
rugged  heights  of  Oahu  were  magnified,  and 
trees  and  tropical  growth  assumed  shape 
and  form,  standing  room  at  the  rail  of  the 
promenade  decks  was  at  a  premium. 

After  the  first  excitement,  passengers  be- 
gan disappearing  into  their  state  rooms  and, 
after  a  brief  period,  reappeared  in  so  resur- 
I'ccted  a  form  that  it  required  two  squints 
through  the  spy  glasses  to  recognize  some  of 
our  fellow  passengers  with  whom  we  had 
been  hobnobbing  for  the  past  week.  Like 
gay  birds  of  Paradise,  they  fluttered  out  in 
raiment  so  stunning,  in  hats  so  large, 
in  gowns  so  white  and  ribbons  so 
bright  that  it  was  a  regular  transforma- 
tion scene.  Duck  and  pongee  suits  pre- 
vailed among  the  sterner  sex,  and  umbrellas 

29 


30  Journeying   Round    the    World 

to  shelter  flower  hats  and  chiffon  shades 
from  the  celebrated  sun-showers  of  Hono- 
lulu were  much  in  evidence. 

The  ship  plowed  through  the  waters,  past 
Diamond  Head,  and  swept  toward  the  har- 
bor of  Honolulu,  a  mile  or  so  away.  We  all 
made  ready  to  disembark  with  all  possible 
speed  for  it  looked  as  if  we  would  shortly 
step  foot  on  shore. 

But  right  here  we  received  our  first  les- 
son in  patience.  A  missionary  on  board,  on 
her  return  voyage  to  Japan,  had  told  me  that 
the  most  vulgar  thing  one  can  do  in  the 
Orient  is  to  show  haste.  It  was  at  Honolulu 
that  we  had  our  first  check  to  our  perfectly 
natural,  inborn  American  haste. 

Reminds  one  of  the  story  of  a  distin- 
guished party  of  Japanese  who  were  visiting- 
New  York  and  were  transferred  from  one 
subway  train  to  another,  when  both  were 
going  in  the  same  direction. 

''Why  did  we  do  thaf?"  one  of  the  guests 
inquired  of  an  American  friend. 

"Wliy,"  explained  the  American  eagerly, 
"we  gained  two  minutes  by  the  transfer." 

"Yes,  yes,"  replied  the  Japanese,  "we 
gained  two  minutes,  but  what  for'?" 

However,  if  you  think  for  a  minute  that 


Honolulu,  the  Happy  Haven  31 

a  big  oceau  liner  can  run  up  alongside  the 
wharf  at  any  port  she  happens  to  come  to 
and  discharge  her  passengers  and  freight 
with  as  little  ceremony  as  any  lake  or  ri\^er 
steamer,  there's  where  you  are  woefully  mis- 
taken. There's  a  deal  of  form  about  it,  I  as- 
sure you,  and  3^ards  and  yards  of  red  tape  to 
unwind.  After  we  were  gloved  and  hatted, 
and  had  firmly  grasped  our  umbrellas  to 
combat  the  "liquid  sunshine"  we  had  heard 
so  nuich  about,  we  suddenly  observed  that 
our  ship  had  slowed  down  and  was  leisurely 
treading  water  as  if  waiting  for  something. 

A  little  shallop  shot  out  from  shore  and 
came  rocking  over  the  waves  toward  us.  She 
danced  like  an  egg-shell  on  the  rippling  blue, 
curvetting  gracefully  around  the  stern  of 
our  ship  and  brought  up  on  the  port  side. 
A  thin,  wiry,  gray-haired  man,  with  keen 
blue  eyes  and  wearing  government  uniform, 
came  on  board. 

"Inspection  officer,"  some  one  murmured. 
Tlien  the  big  gong  sounded,  summoning  all 
the  passengers  to  the  dining  saloon  and  we 
marched  down  like  a  flock  of  sheep  and 
I'anged  ourselves  in  rows  on  either  side  the 
long  tables.  We  sat  there  is  hushed  and 
solemn  silence,  until  the  wait  seemed  inter- 


32  Journe})mg   Round    the    World 

minable  and  some  one  ventured  a  joke  at  the 
expense  of  Uncle  Sam.  That  relieved  the 
strained  tension  and  we  chatted  and  chaffed 
while  the  inspection  oflicer  was  going 
through  his  work  in  the  steerage  and  sec- 
ond cabin. 

Peggy  had  grown  a  trifle  nervous  with  all 
this  serious  ceremony  and  tedious  waiting, 
and  she  turned  pale  and  grasped  the  table 
for  support  when  our  official  jollier  gravely 
told  her  that  each  passenger  would  be  called 
out  separately  by  name,  and  would  be  com- 
pelled to  go  forward  and  stand  under  an  im- 
mense headlight  which  would  be  stationed 
at  the  main  stairway  before  the  open  en- 
trance to  the  dining  saloon,  where  she  must 
display  her  tongue  for  inspection  to  the 
health  officer,  and  permit  her  pulse  to  be 
counted  before  she  would  be  given  a  clean 
bill  of  health  and  allowed  to  land. 

This  is  what  really  happened.  The 
inspector  simply  walked  rapidly  down 
the  line,  giving  each  passenger  a  keen, 
penetrating  glance  as  he  passed.  There 
was  a  howl  of  glee  went  up  when 
he  paused  before  a  young  college  athlete, 
who,  in  taking  a  high  dive  a  few  days 
before,  had  struck  the  bottom  of  the  bathing 


Honolulu,  the  Happ\f  Haven  33 

pool  which  had  been  rigged  up  on  deck,  and 
whose  face  bore  the  marks  of  his  reckless 
plunge.  His  explanation,  and  the  surgeon's 
affidavit  that  the  picturesque  map  on  his 
countenance,  done  in  bright  scarlet,  was  the 
result  of  a  too  harsh  contact  with  the  can- 
vas bottom  of  the  bathing  pool  satisfied  the 
officer  that  he  would  be  running  no  risk  of 
admitting  a  measles  or  scarlet  fever  patient 
on  shore.  After  his  first  round,  the  inspect- 
ing officer  made  a  second,  counting  us  all,  to 
see  if  the  number  corresponded  with  that  of 
the  passenger  list. 

After  that  we  had  to  wait  for  another 
steamer  to  pull  out  from  the  wharf  and  then 
our  pilot  boat  had  to  dash  after  her  with  our 
mail  destined  for  San  Francisco,  so  that  al- 
together, it  was  fully  two  o'clock  before  we 
finally  came  up  alongside  the  wharf. 

Our  guide,  philosopher  and  friend  at  Hon- 
olulu was  a  California  girl  who  was  spend- 
ing a  year  in  this  Paradise  of  the  Pacific,  and 
she  proved  herself  past  mistress  in  the  art 
of  showing  the  beauties  of  the  place.  She 
had  engaged  a  seven-passenger  touring  car 
for  us  and,  without  a  moment's  delay,  we 
bundled  into  it  and  away  we  sped. 

Out  over  the  smoothly  macadamized  roads 


34  Journeying   Round   the    World 

we  whirled  to  Hawaii's  historic  peak,  Pali, 
the  auto  climbing  curve  after  curve  till  we 
landed  on  the  heights,  two  thousand  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  sea  whence  we  had 
come.  At  our  feet  lay  the  harbor  of  Hono- 
lulu, and  between  a  panoramic  view  of  tropi- 
cal splendor,  tempered  and  softened  by  the 
mist-like  showers  of  "liquid  sunshine,"  and 
the  shadows  of  the  clouds  which  seem  to  for- 
ever hover  over  Honolulu — so  thin  and 
transparent  that  the  blue  of  the  sky,  and  the 
shine  of  the  sun  is  always  breaking  through. 

On  our  return  down  this  splendid  moun- 
tain road  we  halted  for  a  few  minutes  at  the 
Country  Club  situated  on  a  mesa  command- 
ing a  view  of  the  harbor  and  the  sea.  Be- 
fore it  stretches  the  smooth,  velvet  lawn  of 
the  golf  links,  its  bunkers  marked  by  hedges 
of  brilliant  begonias. 

It  is  this  riotous,  tropical  growth  of  Hon- 
olulu that  most  impresses  you.  The  sweet, 
moist  smell  of  spring  is  everywhere,  and  na- 
ture is  forever  having  her  face  washed — 
sometimes  a  mere  mist  of  a  sprinkle,  and 
again  a  smart  shower  as  if  a  big  bucket  of 
water  had  suddenly  been  thrown  out  of 
Celestial  windows  just  as  one  might  toss  a 
pail  of  water  out  the  back  door. 


Honolulu,  the  Happ})  Haven  35 

It  rained  every  seven  minutes  and  a  half 
by  my  watch  while  we  were  there — not 
heavy  soaking  showei*s,  but  a  soft-falling 
mist  shot  through  with  sunbeams. 

"Seems  as  if  the  soul  of  the  sky  was  laugh- 
ing and  it  brings  tears  to  its  eyes,"  quoted 
Peggy  in  her  soft,  southern  accents. 

Tlie  lawn  mowei's  in  Honolulu,  you  will 
ol)serve,  are  run  by  horse  power.  You  see 
a  big  mower,  built  on  the  same  plan  as  our 
hand-run  affairs,  hitched  to  a  horse  that  is 
patiently  plodding  over  the  lawn,  driven  by 
a  native. 

"Grass  gets  long  enough  to  braid  and  tie 
u])  with  ribbons  in  a  week  here  if  you  don't 
give  it  a  hair-cut,"  observed  the  chauffeur  as 
we  shot  past  a  lovely  hybiscus  hedge  over 
which  tall  oleander  trees,  heavy  with  their 
beauteous  bloom  of  pink  or  white,  nodded  to 
us  in  friendly  fashion.  Most  brilliant  of  all 
are  the  bourganvilleas  which  cover  whole 
arbors  and  climb  roof-high.  Some  of  these 
are  the  same  deep  magenta  of  our  Califor- 
nia bourganvilleas  and  others  are  a  bril- 
liant flame-color.  One  of  the  prettiest  sights 
I  saw  in  Honolulu  was  a  lovely  girl,  gowned 
in  white,  reaching  up  for  a  spray  of  bloom 
from  an  arbor  literallv  smothered  in  these 


36  Journeying   Round   the    World 

gay,  red  flowers.  Her  white  dress  against 
the  vivid  scarlet  background,  her  uncon- 
sciously graceful  pose  was  a  challenge  for  an 
artist's  eye. 

And  speaking  of  girls,  Honolulu  is  the 
Paradise  of  the  summer  girl  for  she  has 
twelve  brilliant  moons  in  the  year  in  which 
to  do  business.  Next  to  the  "liquid  sun- 
shine," the  misty  moonlight  of  Honolulu  is 
most  famous.  Its  silvery  rays  fall  on  the 
just  and  the  unjust,  the  romantic  and  pro- 
saic. Naturally  then,  an  architectural  fea- 
ture of  every  pretentious  home  in  Honolulu 
is  the  balcony — from  which  to  view  the 
moon  of  course. 

Our  hostess  told  us  that  there  had  been  a 
complaint  among  the  American  girls  there, 
however,  that  there  was  too  much  balcony 
and  too  little  Romeo  in  Honolulu,  which 
seems  a  shame  when  the  stage  settings  are 
so  perfect,  and  is  a  direct  challenge  for  some 
of  Uncle  Sam's  Romeos  to  wend  their  way 
hitherward. 

The  summer  girl,  like  the  moon,  is  an  all- 
the -year-round  product  in  Honolulu,  too. 

"We  wear  white  dresses  and  summer 
gowns  the  year  through,"  said  our  girlish 


Honolulu,  the  Happy  Haven  37 

guide.  "I  haven't  paid  out  but  $15  for 
clothes  since  I  came  here  last  June." 

This  remark  created  a  distinct  sensation 
among  the  feminine  portion  of  our  party, 
and  paterfamilias  pricked  up  his  ears  and 
said: 

"Won't  you  please  say  that  again?" 

No  furs,  or  velvets,  or  silks  or  satins  for 
Honolulu  girls.  Just  filmy  muUa,  and  white 
linen  or  duck,  and  a  sailor  hat — and  there 
you  are — summer  and  winter  the  twelve 
months  around. 

In  Honolulu  there  is  no  north,  no  south, 
no  east,  no  west.  Direction  is  determined 
rather  by  localities.  "Out  Waikiki  way," 
means  toward  the  beach  of  that  name  and 
Diamond  Head;  "Makai,"  is  toward  the  sea; 
"up  Mauka  way,"  indicates  toward  the 
mountains,  and  "over  Ewa  way,"  means  in 
the  direction  of  the  famous  Ewa  plantation. 
It  sounds  odd  to  hear  your  guide  say,  "Drive 
Ewa  on  King  Street,"  or  "Go  Makai  to  the 
wharf." 

We  went  out  to  Pearl  Harbor  where  the 
government  is  creating  a  great  naval  sta- 
tion and  spending  millions  in  developing  this 
Gibraltar  of  the  mid-Pacific;  we  climbed  Pa- 
cific Heights,  which  is  the  Nob  Hill  of  Hon- 


38  Journeying   Round   the    World 

olulu,  where  wealthy  residents  have  built 
themselves  beautiful  villas  set  in  tropical 
gardens  overlooking  the  sea. 

"Here's  the  home  of  a  man  who,  with  his 
wife,  started  forty-five  years  ago  to  make  a 
tour  of  the  world,"  observed  our  hostess,  as 
we  passed  an  elegant  home.  "He  stopped 
in  Honolulu,  and  he  never  got  any  farther. ' ' 

The  birds  of  Honolulu  you  will  notice,  do 
not  sing  as  ours  do.  They  chirp  instead — a 
soft,  subdued,  long-drawn  note,  that  is 
weirdly  beautiful  and  chimes  in  exactl,v  with 
the  surroundings.  It  is  in  perfect  harmony 
with  the  golden  mist  that  sifts  softly  from 
the  sky,  with  the  tropical  indolence  of  the 
climate  that  invites  to  dreamy  repose — this 
soft,  sweet  carol  of  the  birds  that  we  hear 
only  at  twilight  when  our  golden-throated 
California  songsters  say  good-night  to  their 
mates  before  they  tuck  their  heads  under 
their  wings  to  go  to  sleep. 

Of  course  we  had  heard  about  the  wonder- 
ful aquarium  at  Honolulu,  but  we  were  whol- 
ly unprepared  for  the  malvelous  specimens 
of  sea  life  that  we  found  darting  about  in  the 
tanks  at  Waikiki  Beach.  They  seemed  more 
like  floating  flowers,  or  brilliant  plumaged 
tropical  birds,  than  just  fish. 


Honolulu,  the  Happy  Haven  39 

"Who  painted  the  fish?"  is  a  frequent  in- 
quiry of  tourists  as  they  gaze  on  the  gor- 
geous rainbow  tinted  fellows.  Scientists  say 
it  is  due  to  the  color  of  the  coral  reefs  in 
which  they  are  hatched.  Some  are  a  deli- 
cate canary  color,  some  are  as  gorgeous  as 
peacocks,  some  are  mottled,  some  are 
striped,  some  are  spotted,  and  some  are  done 
in  conventional  patterns,  but  all  wear  coats 
of  many  and  strikingly  vivid  colors. 

One  gay  youug  sport  proudly  waved  after 
him  a  long,  tail-like  appendage  fully  eight 
inches  in  length,  which  curved  about  with 
splendid  grace  as  he  swam  gaily  along.  Oc- 
casionally you  will  behold  what  seems  to  be 
a  fragment  of  the  rocks  inside  the  tank, 
suddenly  detach  itself  and  swim  calmly 
away  from  its  perch  and  you  discover  that 
what  you  had  thought  to  be  a  stone,  is  a  fish 
marked  and  colored  j^recisely  after  the  same 
pattern  as  the  rock  itself. 

As  we  swept  up  before  the  entrance  of  the 
^loana  Hotel  at  Waikiki  for  dinner,  Peggy 
observed  with  a  happy  sigh: 

"I'm  actually  suffering  from  scenic  indi- 
gestion." 

The  hotel  dining  room  is  built  out  over 
the  blue,  shining  bay  and  the  native  Ha- 


40  Journeying  Round   the    World 

waiian  waiters,  clad  in  immaculate  white 
linen,  slip  noiselessly  about  bringing  you  the 
most  delicious  food,  and  fruits  in  abundance 
— the  papaia,  a  golden  melon-like  fruit, 
grapes,  fresh  from  the  vines,  pineapples,  and 
all  the  luscious  products  of  tree  and  vine 
that  grow  in  this  Eden  island. 

It  was  in  Honolulu  as  a  matter  of  fact,  that 
we  discovered  the  pineapple.  Not  the  dry, 
green  and  unripe  pines  that  we  Americans 
eat  and  call  good,  after  chipping  them  off 
and  saturating  over-night  with  sugar  to 
draw  the  juice  out.  Oh,  my,  no!  Never- 
more, after  once  tasting  the  Hawaiian  pine- 
apple on  its  native  heath — yellow  as  gold, 
mellow  as  an  orange,  juicy  as  a  watermelon, 
sweet  as  honey. 

Dr.  Robert  J.  Burdette,  the  famous 
preacher-humorist,  who,  with  his  wife, 
was  spending  the  winter  in  Honolulu,  de- 
scribed thus  to  us  the  proper  way  to  eat  a 
Hawaiian  pineapple.  ''First,"  he  said, 
"get  your  pineapple;  then  go  into  the  bath- 
room, pin  a  bath  towel  around  your  neck, 
stand  over  the  bathtub  and  cut  that  pine- 
apple into  quarter  sections.  Then  eat  it 
just  as  you  would  a  section  of  watermelon. 
The  only  difficulty  is,  as  the  old  darky  said 


Honolulu,  the  Happ\f  Haven  41 

about  eating  melons,  '*It  musses  up  yoli 

eahs  so'." 

After  dinner  we  lingered  for  a  time  in  the 
open  court  which  stretches  between  the 
hotel  and  the  lapping  waters  of  the  bay. 
Electric  bulbs  in  red,  white  and  blue, 
twinkled  in  the  trees,  coffee  and  cigars  were 
served  at  small  tables  on  the  piazzas,  or 
under  the  trees,  and  the  strains  of  the  weird, 
sweet  Hawaiian  music  stole  over  our  senses 
till  we  dreamed  we  were  in  fairyland. 

On  our  return  to  the  city  we  passed  the 
Colonial  home  of  Ex-Queen  Liliuokalani 
near  the  Royal  Hawaiian  Hotel,  and  up  the 
aveiRie  of  stately  Royal  palms  to  Oahu  Col- 
lege surrounded  by  its  wonderful  fence  of 
coral  a  mile  long  and  covered  with  night 
blooming  cactus,  thousands  of  them  in 
bloom,  theii'  jDctals  unfolding  in  beauty  and 
fragrance  under  the  silver  radiance  of  the 
moon. 

Next  morning  at  10  o'clock  our  ship  sailed 
away  and  set  her  course  toward  Japan. 
Hawaiians  understand  perfectly  the  grace 
of  hospitality.  They  know  how  to  speed 
the  parting  as  well  as  welcome  the  coming 
guest.     It  seems  as  if  practically  the  whole 


42  Joumepng   Round   the    World 

town  turns  out  to  see  you  off,  and  brings 
along  the  band. 

This  municipal  band,  by  the  way,  is  the 
pride  of  Honolulu.  It  is  maintained  by  the 
city,  the  same  as  the  police  force  or  any  other 
municipal  organization,  and  its  services  are 
in  demand  for  all  sorts  of  public  functions, 
but  never  to  be  had  for  private  occasions. 
It  is  composed  of  native  Hawaiians  and,  for 
an  hour  before  we  left,  this  band  played 
splendid  music.  The  plaintive  strains  of 
Hawaii's  national  song,  "Aloha  Oe"  (Love 
to  You)  entranced  our  ears  and  there  were 
patriotic  airs,  and  Southern  melodies  and, 
just  as  our  ship  slowly  slipped  away  from 
the  wharf,  the  music  lapsed  into  the  majestic 
measures  of  Lohengrin's  "Wedding  March." 
Wherefore  I  do  not  know  unless  in  compli- 
ment to  the  gay  young  widow  who  was  going 
out  to  Manila  to  meet  her  fiance,  or  to  the 
pretty  Southern  girl  whose  lover  was  wait- 
ing for  her  in  Shanghai.  In  a  twinkling, 
the  music  swung  into  the  familiar  "Colum- 
bia, the  Gem  of  the  Ocean"  and,  amidst 
great  tossing  of  leis,  clapping  of  hands  and 
waving  of  handkerchiefs,  we  floated  out 
over  the  still  waters  of  Honolulu  harbor,  the 
last,  sweet  strains  to  reach  our  ears  being 


Honolulu,  the  Happ^  Haven  43 

of  that  laud  of  the  free  and  home  of  the 
brave  from  which  we  were  now  taking  our 
leave  for  a  period  of  months  to  come. 

The  native  boys,  diving  for  nickels  and 
dimes,  followed  our  ship  for  a  mile  or  more, 
sporting  in  the  water  like  huge,  brown- 
skinned  human  porpoises. 


In  Mid- ocean. 

Twelve  days  in  mid-ocean — sailing,  sail- 
ing, sailing  ''out  into  the  West  where  the 
sun  goes  down"  to  the  point  where  the  West 
meets  the  East.  We  cross  the  180th  merid- 
ian, and  leave  behind  us  the  West — also  a 
day  which  drops  incidentally  from  our  cal- 
endar. We  fell  asleep  on  Good  Friday  night, 
and  awakened  next  morning  to  the  East — 
and  Easter  Sunday. 

Thenceforth  we  are  at  the  beginning  of 
things.  We  are  starting  now  from  the  ex- 
treme boundary  of  the  round  world — where 
the  sun  first  gets  up — away  out  in  the  mid- 
dle of  the  Pacific — and  we  are  sailing  toward 
the  dawn  of  the  Orient,  the  high  noon  of  the 
equator,  the  afternoon  of  Western  seas,  and 
the  sunset  of  the  Occident. 

Glorious  days  were  those!  The  great 
ocean  calm  as  a  summer  lake — scarcely  a 
ripple  on  its  shining  blue  surface,  turquoise 
skies,  sunny  days,  soft  breezes,  opalescent 
sunsets  and  mellow  moonlight  nights.  Not 
a  sail  in  sight;  not  a  companion  vessel  on 
the  great  ocean  highway — absolutely  alone. 


In  Mid -ocean  45 

It  was  as  if  we — this  boat-load  of  a  few  hun- 
dred souls — were  the  sole  occupants  of  the 
universe.  Even  the  wireless  lost  connec- 
tion with  us,  and  we  missed  the  little  daily 
paper  printed  on  board  giving  us  the  tele- 
g-raphic  briefs  of  the  world  which  seems 
now  so  distant — so  entirely  out  of  our  ken. 

You  wake  in  the  nisrht  sometimes  and 
listen  to  the  hourly  call  "All's  well"  as  the 
ship's  bell  strikes  the  passina^  hours.  You 
realize  as  never  before  how^  utterly  solitary 
and  alone  you  are — absolutely  cut  off  from 
communication  with  the  world  at  lara^e — ■ 
and  yet — you  never  think  of  fear.  You  feel 
as  safe  and  secure  as  when  lyinsf  in  yoiu* 
bod  at  home.  The  days  pass  in  such  quick 
succession  and  with  such  a  degree  of  same- 
ness that  there  is  nothina:  to  distins^uish 
AFonday  from  Wednesday,  or  Thursday 
from  Tuesday — except  on  Sunday — that  is 
different  from  any  other  day  in  the  week. 
First,  there  is  the  recrular  weekly  inspection 
of  the  crew  by  the  ship's  officers.  On  one 
side  of  the  promenade  deck,  the  Japanese 
stewards  and  crew  lino  up,  and  on  the  other 
the  Chinese.  All  are  clad  in  spotless  white 
and  as  the  captain  and  chief  officers  cro  down 
the  lino,  everv  hand  is  raised  in  salute. 


46  Journeying   Round   the    World 

At  11  o'clock  the  ship's  bell  summons 
passengers  to  the  dining  saloon  for  church 
service.  If  no  clergyman  is  on  board,  then 
the  captain  leads  in  the  impressive  ritual- 
istic service  of  the  Episcopalian,  or  English 
church.  Never  will  the  Psalm  of  the  Sea 
appeal  to  you  as  now — "They  that  go  down 
to  the  sea  in  ships.  .  .These  see  the  works 
of  the  Lord,  and  His  wonders  in  the  deep 
...  so  He  bringeth  them  to  their  desired 
haven." 

Wonderfully  impressive,  too,  are  the 
hj^mns — the  voices  rising  in  that  familiar 
tune  "There's  a  wideness  in  God's  mercy, 
like  the  wideness  of  the  sea,"  or  the 
"Pilot"  hymn. 

Our  last  night  on  shipboard  before  reach- 
ing Yokohama  was  made  memorable  by  the 
captain's  dinner — a  function  that  alwa.ys 
marks  the  final  festivities  on  Pacific  liners. 
The  big  ship  had  been  our  home  so  long — 
almost  three  weeks — that  there  was  a  feel- 
ing of  universal  regret  at  leaving  her  hos- 
pitable state  rooms  and  spacious  decks.  We 
had  formed  delightful  acquaintances,  too, 
and,  while  eagerly  looking  forward  to  our 
arrival  in  Japan  there  was  nevertheless  a 


In  Mid-ocean  47 

lingering  regret  at  thought  of  leaving  our 
floating  home. 

The  big  dining-room  was  made  gorgeous 
for  this  last  banquet  with  hundreds  of  flags, 
representing  the  nations  of  the  earth,  flut- 
tering from  the  ceiling,  while  gay  pennants 
and  Japanese  lanterns  lent  further  color  to 
the  brilliant  effect.  A  dinner  party  with 
the  host  absent  seems  a  rather  strange  pro- 
ceeding, but  that  is  what  happened  on  this 
occasion  for  the  captain  stood  at  his  post  on 
the  bridge  all  that  afternoon  and  all  through 
the  night,  for  the  approach  to  Yokohama 
is  so  perilous  that  it  requires  careful  and 
expert  seamanship.  So,  faithful  to  his 
trust,  the  captain  guided  the  big  ship  while 
we,  his  guests,  made  merry  below. 

It  was  midnight  before  festivities  were 
over — the  dinner,  and  after  that,  the  pre- 
sentation of  trophies  won  in  the  various 
deck  games  and  tournaments  which  had 
whiled  away  the  time  of  our  voyage,  and 
then  the  concert  in  the  music  room.  It  was 
scarcely  dawn  next  morning  when  we  were 
awakened  by  the  vigorous  beating  of  the 
l^g  gong  announcing  that  we  were  anchored 
just  outside  the  harbor  of  Yokohama.  Dap- 
per little  Japanese  surgeons  from  the  quar- 


48  Journeying  Round   the    World 

antine  station  were  already  on  board  and 
anxious  to  begin  their  work  of  inspection. 
We  hustled  into  our  clothes  and  answered 
the  summons  to  the  dining  saloon  where  we 
were  subjected  to  the  quick,  keen  scrutiny 
of  the  health  officers  who  politely  and 
promptly  pronounced  us  all  good  subjects 
for  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun. 

Outside  the  rain  was  falling  in  torrents. 
Umbrellas  and  raincoats  were  in  demand, 
and  we  were  taken  off  in  relays  in  little 
launches  which  landed  us  on  the  wharf  be- 
fore the  custom  house. 

In  nearly  all  ports  in  the  Far  East  you 
will  notice  that  the  big  ocean  liner  rarely 
docks  but  puts  her  passengers  ashore  in 
launches.  Some  Japanese  officials,  after  a 
merely  nominal  examination  of  our  baggage, 
slapped  on  the  stickers  and  passed  us 
through  the  custom  house. 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha. 

Some  one  has  said  that  Japan  is  the  child 
of  the  world's  old  age  and  it  certainly  does 
give  one  the  impression  of  an  empire  of 
animated  dolls  when  you  first  set  eyes  on 
the  diminutive  little  brown  men,  the  pretty, 
pink-cheeked  maidens  teetering  along  on 
their  clicking  sandals,  and  the  jinrikshas 
like  overgrown  baby  cabs,  mounted  on  two 
rubber-tired  wheels  and  built  after  the  fash- 
ion of  the  English  baby  coach.  All  this  com- 
bines to  make  an  American  feel  very  big, 
very  awkward,  and  very  ungainh^  Indeed, 
one  of  the  amusing  sights  of  Japan  is  that 
of  a  200-pound  American  crowded  into  a 
jiuriksha,  his  feet  half  hanging  out  for  want 
of  space,  hauled  about  the  streets  by  a  lively 
little  Jap  who  sprints  along  at  a  jog  trot. 

Harold  Bolce  says  that  one  ride  in  a  rail- 
way train  in  the  Land  of  the  Rising  Sun 
does  much  to  disillusion  the  American  who 
has  fondly  believed  that  Uncle  Sam  is  the 
godfather  of  Japan.  Take  a  train  at  Yoko- 
hama and  ride  to  Tokyo  and,  but  for  the 
character  of  your  fellow  passengers,  you 

49 


50  Journe})mg   Round   the    World 

might  readily  believe  you  were  traveling 
from  Liverpool  to  London.  The  whole  sys- 
tem is  thoroughly  British.  You  find  painted 
over  the  ticket  booth  at  the  station  "Book- 
ing Office, ' '  and  you  never  ' '  check  your  bag- 
gage" in  Japan — you  "forward  your  lug- 
gage." Whether  you  find  it  at  your  destin- 
ation is  another  thing.  It  fills  your  soul 
with  doubt  to  behold  posted  up  in  the  bag- 
gage room  of  the  railway  station  "Luggage 
forwarded  in  all  directions,"  and  you  won- 
der uneasily  in  which  direction  vours  will  go. 

You  notice  too  that  there  are  girls  in  most 
of  the  ticket  offices.  You  almost  always 
buy  your  railway  ticket  of  a  girl  in  Japan. 
In  fact,  the  women  of  Japan,  under  the  new 
regime,  are  coming  into  a  much  larger  life 
than  hitherto.  In  a  single  bank  in  Tokyo 
I  was  told  that  fifty  young  women  are  em- 
ployed. At  Osaka,  the  great  industrial  cen- 
ter— the  Manchester  of  Japan — over  40,000 
women  and  children  are  employed  in  the 
big  silk  and  cotton  factories,  and  in  the  tele- 
phone offices  are  700  more. 

But  the  thing  that  most  impresses  you 
in  all  elapan,  is  its  swarming  human  life. 
Scarce!}^  a  woman  on  the  crowded  streets, 
or  a  child  of  sufficient  size  to  bear  the  bur- 


The  Land  of  the  'Ril^sha  51 

den,  but  has  on  her  back  a  baby.  Carried 
pappoose  fashion,  inside  the  loose  kimono, 
that  little  black  head  is  always  in  evidence, 
bobbing  over  the  shoulders.  Another  tiling 
tliat  impresses  you  is  the  fact  that  you  al- 
most never  hear  a  baby  cry  in  Japan  al- 
though they  are  swarming  all  around  you. 
Stolid  little  bunches  of  humanity,  they  re- 
gard life  philosophically  and  soberh^ — for 
you  rarely  see  a  baby  smile  either. 

A  missionary  to  Jai)an,  who  has  served 
many  years  at  Nagoya,  told  me  that  no  place 
in  the  empire  (containing  a  population  of 
less  than  100,000  is  considered  a  cit.y.  The 
rest  are  all  villages.  When  one  stops  to  re- 
fl(H't  that  Japan  has  a  population  of  50,- 
000,000 — almost  one-half  that  of  the  entire 
Ignited  States — and  is  increasing  at  the  enor- 
mous rate  of  700,000  annually,  and  yet  has 
but  18,000  square  miles  of  tillable  land,  one 
can  understand  her  congested  population 
and  how  eagerly  she  has  taken  possession  of 
her  Korean  territory.  Fancy  crowding  50,- 
000,000  people  into  a  little  empire  whose 
area  is  slightly  more  than  that  of  ^[ontana! 

The  Ignited  States  Department  of  Agri- 
culture makes  the  statement  that  the  cul- 
tivated area  of  Japan  comprises  a  distri<'t 


52  Journey^ing  Round   the    World 

equal  to  about  one-third  the  size  of  the  State 
of  Illinois.  In  fact,  only  fifteen  per  cent,  of 
the  territory  of  the  empire  is  adapted  to  the 
cultivation  of  their  annual  crops,  and  yet 
these  little  brown  men  have  conducted  their 
farming  with  such  industry  and  scientific 
skill  that  this  insignificant  area  has  sup- 
ported 50,000,000  people. 

Kamakura  is  an  hour's  ride  from  Yoko- 
hama by  steam  car,  situated  on  the  seashore 
and  it  is  one  of  the  beauty  spots  of  Japan 
and  a  favorite  watering  place.  It  is  here 
that  you  see  the  famous  Daibutsu  statue  of 
Buddha.  As  the  train  passes  out  into  the 
open  from  Yokohama,  you  get  your  first 
glimpse  of  the  country  with  its  gardens  and 
rice  fields,  its  bamboo  forests  and  intensely 
cultivated  fields. 

As  soon  as  we  disembarked  at  the  railway 
station  at  Kamakura  we  were  surrounded 
by  'riksha  men,  jabbering  and  gesticulating 
to  secure  our  attention  and  our  patronage. 
An  official  who  spoke  very  good  English 
came  to  our  rescue  and  we  were  soon 
mounted  in  the  funny,  two-wheeled  cabs. 

Our  human  horses  on  this  occasion  were 
somewhat  handicapped.  One  was  a  little, 
weazened  old  man  about  as  big  as  a  minute, 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha  53 

and  another  had  but  one  eye.  The  little 
old  man  was  assigned  to  Peggy.  Now 
Peggy  is  no  lightweight  and  she  rebelled  at 
the  prospect. 

"You  no  can  haul  me,"  she  protested  in 
voluble  Jap-English,  "  I  too  much  heavy — 
you  too  much  old — sabe?" 

For  reply,  the  little  old  man  puckered  his 
toothless  jaws  into  a  cheerful  grin,  spit  on 
his  hands,  grabbed  the  thills  of  the  'riksha 
and  trotted  gaily  off  leading  the  procession, 
but  he  vanished  at  the  first  stopping  place 
and  was  seen  no  more,  his  place  being  taken 
])y  a  younger  and  stronger  man. 

If  you  do  not  visit  Nikko  you  do  not  see 
Japan,  is  the  opinion,  not  only  of  the  Jap- 
anese themselves,  but  of  all  tourists  who 
have  made  a  pilgrimage  to  this  charming 
spot  away  up  in  the  mountains,  two  thousand 
feet  above  Tokyo,  from  which  city  it  is  dis- 
tant five  hours  by  rail  and  reached  by  ex- 
press trains  which  give  excellent  service.  Tlie 
first-class  compartments,  by  which  all  for- 
eigners travel  as  the  second-class  are  simply 
impossible  in  the  Orient  for  Americans,  are 
very  comfortable  indeed,  the  seats  running 
lengthwise  and  well  upholstered.  Japanese 
of  the  upper  class  also  patronize  these  com- 


54  Journeying  Round   the    World 

partments  and  you  are  interested  in  watch- 
ing them  as  they  enter  the  car,  slip  their 
shoes  off  and  draw  their  immaculate  white- 
stockinged  feet  under  them,  sitting  Turk 
fashion. 

As  we  approach  Mkko  the  train  climbs 
higher  and  higher,  winding  through  the  most 
beautiful  section  of  country  where  grow 
monumental  forest  trees.  For  miles  the  way 
parallels  the  famous  avenue  lined  on  either 
side  with  giant  crypt omeria  trees  of  three 
centuries  growth.  This  avenue  is  twenty-five 
miles  long  and  is  one  of  the  sights  of  Japan. 
When  the  train  finally  puffs  into  the  station, 
you  are  met  with  the  usual  flock  of  'riksha 
men  who  have  the  Niagara  Falls  ''barkers" 
beaten  to  a  finish;  you  mount  the  queer  little 
vehicle  and  away  you  go,  up  the  straight, 
steep  street — so  steep  that  it  requires  the 
united  effort  of  two  men  to  run  the  'riksha 
— one  to  pull  and  one  to  push.  You  pro- 
ceed in  this  fashion  for  a  full  mile  through 
the  principal  street  and  then  make  an  abrupt 
turn  to  Hotel  Kanaya  which  is  perched  on 
a  terrace  high  above  the  street  and  over- 
hanging the  rushing  river  spanned  by  the 
famous  Sacred  Bridge  across  which  no  one 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha  55 

is  permitted  to  pass  except  the  Emperor  and 
meiiibers  of  the  Imperial  family. 

As  we  faced  the  steep  incline  leading  up 
to  the  hotel,  Pegg}'  shrieked  in  alarm  and 
begged  to  get  down  and  walk,  but  without 
the  slightest  halt,  the  little  brown  men 
whisked  our  procession  of  'rikshas  around 
the  curve  while  a  third  man  darted  out  from 
the  flock  of  dogs  that  obstruct  the  streets, 
to  help  push.  Altogether,  we  made  quite 
an  imposing  procession,  our  five  'rikshas 
propelled  by  fifteen  men.  I  felt  like  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  approaching  with  her  court, 
and  this  sensation  was  augmented  when,  as 
we  landed  at  the  hotel  entrance,  we  were 
met  by  the  proprietor  and  a  retinue  of  at- 
tendants, all  bowing  and  kowtowing  as  they 
welcomed  us  to  their  humble  abode — which 
happened  to  be  a  magnificent,  modern  hotel, 
with  rooms  arranged  in  charming  suites  and 
pretty  Japanese  maidens  to  dance  attend- 
ance and  bring  braziers  of  coals  to  our  rooms 
in  the  frosty,  early  morning. 

Nikko  has  a  double  glory — that  of  nature 
and  of  art.  There  are  the  mountains,  cas- 
cades and  monumental  forest  trees,  and 
there  are  the  temples  and  pagodas — eight 
hundred  of  them — scattered  through  the  for- 


56  Journeying   Round   the    World 

ests,  the  most  perfect  assemblage  of  shrines 
in  all  the  world.  Surely  the  ancient  worship- 
pers had  a  just  appreciation  of  nature's 
loveliness  when  they  reared  there,  among 
the  majestic  mountains  and  the  leaping  cas- 
cades, the  mausoleum  of  the  illustrious 
Shogun  dynasty. 

If  you  can  plan  to  be  at  Nikko  the  1st  of 
June  you  will  witness  the  great  annual  fes- 
tival of  the  temples.  The  Imperial  house- 
hold has  a  palace  at  Nikko  which  is  usually 
occupied  by  some  members  of  the  family 
during  the  summer  months  when  the  place 
is  crowded  with  visitors  and  pilgrims  who 
come  to  worship  at  its  shrines. 

There  are  innumerable  shops  at  Nikko, 
filled  with  exquisitely  carved  wood,  and  for 
a  few  sen  you  can  pick  up  trays  and  sou- 
venirs of  the  most  beautiful  workmanship. 
Nikko  is  also  the  fur  market  of  Japan  and 
you  may  purchase  lovely  white  fur  slippers 
or ' '  sneaks ' '  for  half  a  dollar — such  as  would 
cost  you  four  times  that  sum  in  the  Oriental 
shops  at  home.  There  are  beautiful  collars 
and  neck  pieces,  too,  to  be  had  for  a  mere 
trifle  compared  with  our  prices.  But  then, 
there  is  always  the  duty  to  reckon  with. 

Shopping  in  Japan,  by  the  way,  is  a  fas- 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha  57 

cinating  business.  You  are  beset  by  shop- 
keepers everywhere,  who  send  represent- 
atives to  your  hotel  to  ask  your  patronage. 
You  find  cards  galore,  and  envelopes  filled 
with  the  most  artistic  and  tempting  adver- 
tising matter  stuck  under  the  door  of  your 
room.  The  best  hotels  no  longer  permit 
merchants  to  bring  goods  to  the  private 
rooms  of  guests,  but  you  find  them  lurking 
in  corridors  and  halls  and  in  hotel  parlors 
eager  to  display  their  bargains.  When  you 
go  to  the  shops  you  are  met  by  bowing  and 
salaaming  clerks  and  proprietors  who  fairly 
confuse  you  with  the  multitude  of  lovel.Y 
things  to  tempt  the  yen  from  your  purse — 
mandarin  coats,  kimonos,  exquisitely  em- 
broidered crepes,  carved  ivory  and  an  end- 
less array  of  artistic  and  beautiful  articles. 

In  some  of  the  select  shops  to  which  yom* 
guide  conducts  you,  tea  and  rice  cakes  are 
passed  about  on  lacquered  trays  by  little 
Japanese  girls  and  you  are  treated  quite  as 
if  you  were  an  invited  guest  instead  of  just 
a  shopper.  I  suspect  that  many  a  visitor 
is  hypnotized  into  purchasing  by  this  charm- 
ing and  polite  custom  of  these  shrewd  little 
merchants  of  the  Orient.  One  must  learn 
how  to  shop  in  Japan,  however,  for  prices 


58  Journe'^mg   Round    the    World 

vary  in  different  stores  in  the  most  astonish- 
ing manner.  Your  guide  always  has  his 
particular  round  of  certain  shops  which  al- 
low him  a  percentage  on  purchases.  If  you 
chance  to  suggest  a  shop  of  which  you  have 
heard,  and  his  face  suddenly  becomes  a 
blank,  and  he  protests  that  he  never  heard 
of  such  a  place,  you  may  set  it  down  as  a 
certainty  that  he  has  no  arrangement  with 
that  special  shop,  and  likely  it  will  be  to 
your  financial  interest  to  look  it  up  inde- 
pendently. 

"We  don't  have  to  live  in  the  United 
States  to  be  popular,"  said  Peggy  as  we 
trailed  through  the  streets  of  Tokyo  leading 
to  the  great  Asakusa  Temple,  followed  by  a 
throng  of  curious  native  men,  women  and 
children  who  gazed  at  us  as  if  we  were  es- 
caped lunatics. 

' '  This  is  the  Coney  Island  of  Tokyo, ' '  ob- 
served our  guide  as  we  wedged  our  way 
along  the  crowded  thoroughfares.  As  he 
was  educated  in  one  of  our  American  uni- 
versities and  served  an  apprenticeship  in 
New  York,  he  ought  to  know  what  he  is 
talking  about  in  the  way  of  comparisons. 
It  did  resemble  Coney  Island — this  wide 
street  lined  with  shops  and  bazaars,  wax- 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha  59 

work  shows,  cineomatagraphs,  and  scream- 
iu'j:  phonographs,  and  crowded  with  people. 
Xo  vehicles  of  any  kind  are  permitted  here 
and  we  had  to  leave  our  'rikshas  at  the  en- 
trance while  we  joined  the  throng  of  pedes- 
trians. All  w^ere  headed  one  way — toward 
the  temple — one  of  the  largest  in  all  Japan, 
where  the  peoi)le,  rich  and  poor,  and  mostly 
]:»oor  and  very  poor  at  that,  come  to  worship. 
We  ascended  the  flight  of  stone  steps,  always 
followed  by  a  curious  throng  which  so  in- 
creased as  we  went  that  by  the  time  we 
reached  the  entrance  to  the  wide,  open 
i.orch  of  the  temple  we  could  hardly  make 
any  progress  at  all.  They  were  orderly  and 
])e]'fectly  polite,  but  were  evidently  con- 
sul ncd  with  curiosity  and  amazement  at  our 
<*ij)jtearance.  The  w^omen  half  timidly 
touched  our  clothes,  fingered  our  hats  gin- 
gerly, pointed  at  Peggy's  blonde  locks,  and 
then  chattered  and  laughed  among  them- 
selves apparently  in  great  glee.  It  became 
fairly  embarassing. 

"Do  you  suppose  it  is  our  motor  veils?" 
whispered  Peggy,  for  riding  in  a  'riksha  is 
about  as  fatal  to  the  slant  of  your  hat  as  fac- 
ing a  head  wind  in  an  automobile,  hence  the 
veils. 


60  Journeying   Round   the    World 

**No/'  said  the  guide,  ''it's  just  because 
you  are  foreigners  and  appear  strange  to 
them.  They're  talking  about  your  hair 
now,"  he  observed;  "they  never  see  any  one 
but  foreigners  with  light  hair  you  know. " 

Kneeling  before  the  shrine  of  the  temple 
in  the  wide  portico  were  men,  women  and 
children,  murmuring  prayers  to  Buddha  and 
tossing  coins  into  a  great  hopper,  closing 
their  devotions  by  solemnly  clapping  the 
hands  together  three  times. 

''The  daily  contributions  here  amount  to 
about  300  yen  ($150),"  said  the  guide. 

Fluttering  all  around  were  doves,  the 
sacred  birds  of  Japan,  and  chickens  were 
running  about  among  the  worshippers.  One 
old  rooster  was  perched  on  a  round  of  the 
hopper  in  front  of  the  shrine  and  occasion- 
ally a  stray  coin  would  hit  him,  but  this  in- 
cident did  not  rufflle  his  feathers  or  his  dig- 
nity in  the  least. 

There  are  some  20,000  temples  in  Japan, 
the  Sixth  Shogun  Temple  in  Shiba  Park 
being  one  of  the  finest.  This  is  where  the 
Japanese  nobility  go  to  worship  the  memory 
of  their  ancestors  and  the  amount  of  gold 
lacquer  and  exquisite  carving  in  this  one 
temple  would,  if  turned  into  coin  of  com- 


The  Land  of  the  'Rilfsha  61 

mensiirate  value,  go  far  toward  liquidating 
the  national  debt  of  Japan. 

We  sailed  from  Yokohama  on  the  Korea 
and  took  advantage  of  our  all-day  stop  at 
Kobe  to  run  up  to  Kyoto,  fifty  miles  away. 
Tlie  train  climbed  slowly  and  arrived  so 
nuich  behind  schedule  time  that  we  had  but 
one  short  hour  to  spend  in  this  lovely  city 
which  is  considered  by  travelers  the  "park 
of  the  world,"  with  its  more  than  nine  hun- 
dred Buddhist  temples  and  Shinto  shrines, 
its  exquisite  pottery  and  porcelain  and 
cloisonne  productions. 

At  Kobe  we  entered  the  Inland  Sea  of 
Japan,  which  is  one  of  the  world's  beauty 
spots.  All  day  long  the  big  ocean  liner 
threaded  her  way  in  and  out  among  the  love- 
ly islands  that  stud  the  blue  waters  of  this 
land-locked  sea.  A  special  pilot  is  taken 
on  board  at  Kobe,  for  no  sea  captain  will 
trust  his  individual  knowledge  to  the  chang- 
ing tides,  the  narrow  chnnnels  and  tortuous 
ways  of  this  winding  course.  Every  island, 
no  matter  how  small,  is  inhabited  and  culti- 
vated from  the  water's  edge  to  the  highest 
peak,  the  fields  of  green  maize  climbing  to 
the  summit.  Small  villa  ores  and  settlements 
populate  the  larger  islands  and  this  Inland 


62  Journeying   Round   the    World 

Sea  is  a  favorite  summer  resort  for  the  Eng- 
lish, German  and  foreign  residents  of  Shang- 
hai and  other  cities  on  the  coast  of  China. 

The  largest  vessels  in  the  world  anchor 
in  the  spacious  harbor  of  Nagasaki  which 
guards  the  western  entrance  to  the  Inland 
Sea  and  it  was  here  that  we  saw  our  huge 
liner  coaled  for  the  run  across  the  Yellow 
Sea  to  Shanghai.  As  soon  as  we  came  to 
anchor  a  small  fleet  of  barges  swarmed  about 
us,  manned  by  hundreds  of  Japanese — men 
and  women — and  all  day  long  baskets  of 
coal,  not  large  enough  to  hold  more  than 
a  small  hodfull,  were  passed  rapidly  from 
hand  to  hand  until  dumped  into  the  bunkers 
of  the  ship.  Some  of  the  women  had  babies 
strapped  to  their  backs,  and  some  of  them 
were  mere  children  not  more  than  twelve 
years  old.  The  rapidity  with  which  coal  is 
thus  loaded  by  hand  is  astonishing.  I  was 
told  that  the  record  amount  to  date  was 
1150  tons  in  eleven  hours.  Imagine  how 
many  pairs  of  hands  worked  continuously 
for  eleven  hours  in  order  to  load  by  this 
slow  process  as  many  hundred  tons. 

Progressive  as  the  Japanese  are  in  many 
things,  they  seem  slow  in  grasping  the  pos- 
sibilities of  machine  over  hand  labor.    Thev 


The  Land  of  the  'Riksha  63 

make  human  horses,  and  human  engines, 
and  human  level's  of  themselves,  and  one 
wonders  at  the  amount  of  vigor  and  strength 
stored  up  in  those  little  brown  bodies. 

It  is  something  heartrending — the  way  the 
women  work  in  Japan,  sometimes  hauling 
loads  through  the  streets,  always  carrying 
children  on  their  backs,  and  as  you  watch 
it  all  you  think  of  the  poor  old  woman  in 
Frances  Little's  ''The  Lady  of  the  Decor- 
ation" who  asked  the  missionary: 

''If  I  paid  your  God  with  offerings  and 
})rayers,  do  you  think  He  would  make  my 
work  easier?  I  am  so  tired,"  and  of  that 
other  scene  so  graphically  pictured  when  the 
mothers  of  the  little  kindergartners  sat  be- 
wildered before  the  magic  lantern  show 
given  for  their  entertainment,  until  there 
was  flashed  upon  the  sheet  the  picture  of 
rhrist  toiling  up  the  mountain  under  the 
burden  of  the  cross,  when  a  sudden  interest 
swept  over  the  room  and  every  silent,  stolid 
woman  woke  to  instant  life.  The  story  was 
new  and  strange,  but  the  fact  w^as  as  old  as 
Hie  itself.  It  touched  their  lives  and  brought 
(juick  tears  of  sympathy  to  their  eyes. 

At  Kyoto  we  saw,  in  one  of  the  temples, 
great  coils  of  rope  made  from  hair  sent  by 


64  Journeying   Round   the    World 

the  women  of  Japan,  to  bind  the  timbers  to- 
gether, as  no  nails  are  used  in  the  construc- 
tion of  the  temple. 

"I  believe  it  shall  be  given  to  the  women 
of  Japan  to  teach  us  the  real  meaning  of 
self-sacrifice  and  loyalty, ' '  said  a  missionary. 
"The  mystical  East  can  teach  the  practical 
West  many  things." 

A  missionary  went  to  see  a  certain  Japan- 
ese woman  in  Yokohama  whose  husband  and 
two  sons  had  been  killed  in  the  war  be- 
tween Japan  and  Russia.  She  expected  to 
find  her  overwhelmed  with  grief  but  instead, 
this  thrice  afflicted  woman  of  Japan  looked 
at  her  with  calm  eyes  and  said: 

"I  have  been  giving  thanks  to  God  that 
He  has  permitted  me  to  give  my  all  for  my 
country. ' ' 

When  the  Crown  Prince  of  Russia  visited 
Japan  a  few  years  ago  an  attempt  was  made 
to  assassinate  him.  Next  morning,  at  the 
gate  of  the  Royal  Palace  where  he  was  sta.y- 
ing,  there  was  found  the  dead  body  of  a 
young  Japanese  girl  and  on  it  a  note  saying 
that  she  had  felt  so  keenly  the  disgrace  of 
an  attempt  to  kill  a  guest  of  the  Empire, 
that  it  seemed  to  her  the  only  way  to  ex- 
piate the  crime  was  to  offer  her  life  as  a 


The  Land  of  the  'Rilfsha  65 

sacrifice. 

A  young  Japanese  scholar,  a  graduate  of 
the  University  at  Tokyo,  told  me  the  secret, 
I  believe,  of  the  Japanese  victory  over  the 
Russians.     He  said: 

"We  count  our  country  first  in  all  things. 
To  lose  one's  life  for  her  is  the  highest 
honor,"  and  it  is  this  principle  that  the  Jap- 
anese mother  impresses  on  her  sons — first, 
last  and  all  the  time. 


Shanghai,  the  Paris  of  the  Pacific. 

It  is  a  36-hour  run  across  the  Yellow  Sea 
from  Nagasaki  to  Shanghai  and  we  found 
the  waters  smooth  as  oil — scarcely  a  wrinkle- 
on  the  surface  of  this  sea  of  molten  gold. 
It  was  just  at  dawn  of  a  perfect  April  morn- 
ing that  we  dropped  anchor  in  the  port  of 
this  great  Chinese  city,  and  found  a  trim 
little  launch  ready  to  take  us  fifteen  miles 
up  the  wide  mouth  of  the  Yangtze  to  the 
city  itself.  We  greatly  enjoyed  the  run  up 
the  river  in  the  fresh,  morning  breeze. 

I  have  been  asked  many  times  what  place 
in  all  my  travels  I  liked  best  and  I  have 
astonished  many  people  by  putting  Shang- 
hai in  the  front  row  and  very  near  the  top. 
It  is  a  wonderfully  interesting  city.  Frank 
Carpenter  says  of  it: 

"The  growth  of  Shanghai  beats  that  of 
the  gourd  of  Jonah,  which  sprang  up  in  a 
night.  It  is  now  a  modern  European  city. 
It  has  business  blocks  which  might  be 
dropped  down  in  New  York  or  London  and 
not  be  out  of  place,  and  residences  which 
would  be  fine  in  Washing:ton  or  Paris.  Along 

66 


Shanghai,   Paris   of   the  Pacific  67 

the  Bund,  the  wide  road  which  faces  the 
river,  are  a  dozen  or  more  banks  whose  cap- 
ital runs  into  the  tens  of  millions  and  whose 
managers  are  so  trusted  that  they  can  dip 
into  the  pockets  of  the  nations  and  draw 
out  at  pleasure.  On  the  same  street  are 
club  houses,  some  of  which  have  cost  hun- 
dreds of  thousands  of  dollars  to  build.  There 
are  bii^  hotels  where  you  can  live  as  well  as 
at  liome,  and  shops,  with  plate-glass  win- 
dows, containing  European  goods  of  every 
description.  Shanghai  is  the  Paris  of  the 
Far  East.  It  is  one  of  the  richest  cities  in 
Asia,  and  it  takes  the  best  of  all  that  is 
going." 

Out  Bubbling  Well  Road,  which  is  the 
fashionable  residential  thoroughfare,  there 
is  a  regular  ''millionaire's  row"  of  magnifi- 
cent homes,  and  the  English,  French  and 
German  sections  where  the  ambassadors  live 
make  you  rub  your  eyes  and  wonder  if  you 
arc  on  Riverside  Drive  in  New  York,  or  in 
the  Back  Bav  section  of  Boston. 

It  is  only  the  Far  East  that  can  offer 
such  luxury  of  living  at  small  cost.  Domes- 
tic service  commands  a  mere  pittance.  The 
wife  of  a  missionary  stationed  at  "Wuhu, 
who  was  a  passenger  on  board  our  steam- 


68  Journeying   Round    the    World 

ship  going  across  the  Pacific,  told  me  in  the 
most  matter-of-fact  way  that  she  always 
kept  four  servants — and  the  combined  wages 
of  the  quartette  totaled  exactly  six  dollars 
a  month  in  our  money.  One  reason  why  so 
many  servants  are  required  is  because  the 
work  is  distinctly  classified.  Your  cook 
would  no  more  think  of  performing  any 
other  labor  beside  cooking  than  a  dress- 
maker in  this  country  would  think  of  doing 
millinery.  "To  each  one,  his  work"  seems 
to  be  the  slogan.  The  cook,  cooks;  the  sec- 
ond boy  sweeps  and  waits  on  table ;  the  ayah, 
takes  care  of  the  baby;  the  laundryman 
washes.  There's  no  ''general  housemaid" 
idea  in  China. 

You  discover  immediately  that  the  'rik- 
shas  in  China  are  far  more  comfortable  than 
in  Japan.  They  are  more  roomy,  and  they 
are  hung  lower,  and  they  roll  smoothly  and 
noiselessly  along  on  pneumatic  tires  drawn 
by  swift-footed  Chinamen,  clad  in  blue 
denim  uniforms — for  China  is  the  Land  of 
the  Blue  Gown. 

One  of  the  features  of  Shanghai  life  which 
is  bound  to  challenge  your  immediate  at- 
tention is  the  picturesque  East  Indian  po- 
licemen— six  feet  tall  and  straight  as  a  wil- 


Shanghai,   Paris   of   the  Pacific  69 

low,  their  dark  features  like  carved  mahog- 
any and  gay  red,  blue,  green  or  yellow  tur- 
bans wound  artistically  around  their  heads. 
They  stand  at  every  corner  and  crossing, 
their  long,  black  beards  tucked  inside  their 
uniforms  and  their  great  height  giving  them 
a  most  imposing  appearance. 

If  you  have  but  ten  days  in  China,  as  did 
we,  about  the  best  itinerary  you  can  plan 
is  to  take  a  trip  up  the  Yangtze  River  to 
Hankow,  six  hundred  miles  into  the  heart  of 
China.  The  trip  occupies  six  days — three 
going  up  and  the  same  number  coming  back. 
If  you  have  two  or  three  weeks  before  you 
must  return  to  Shanghai  to  catch  your 
steamer,  then  plan  by  all  means  to  visit 
Peking.  You  can  go  up  the  river  to  Han- 
kow, as  I  mention,  and  then,  instead  of  re- 
turning to  Shanghai  by  the  same  route,  take 
train  at  Hankow  and  go  directly  to  Peking 
— a  ride  of  some  thirty  hours  I  believe. 
Then  you  can  visit  the  Great  Wall  of  China 
and  return  by  way  of  Tientsin  and  do^vn  the 
coast  by  steamer  to  Shanghai. 

As  our  time  was  limited,  we  had  to  cut 
Peking?  out  of  our  itinerarv  and  content  our- 
selves with  this  sail  up  the  Yangtze  .stop- 
ping at  Nanking  on  our  return  trip  and  com- 
ing thence  by  rail  back  to  Shanghai. 


Up  the  Yangtze. 

You  know  the  name  Yangtze-Kiang  sig- 
nifies ' ' River  of  Fragrant  Flowers. ' '  It  was 
spring  in  China,  and  I  wish  I  conld  make 
you  see  the  placid  beauty  of  it  all  as  we 
floated  up  that  mighty  waterway  between 
shores  green  as  emerald  on  a  river  of  molten 
gold — for  the  waters  of  the  Yangtze  are 
literally  golden.  Some  one  less  poetic  might 
say  they  were  simply  ''roily"  or  muddy,  but 
I  defy  anyone  with  a  spark  of  sentiment  in 
his  nature  as  he  watches  the  white  foam 
burst  its  bubbles  from  the  trail  of  the 
steamer  on  the  yellow  surface  of  the  river 
under  the  sunshine  of  a  spring  day  to  be 
so  prosaic. 

In  some  places  the  river  widens  to  a  dis- 
tance of  twenty  miles,  and  again  it  narrows 
to  a  slender  stream  and  you  sit  in  your  com- 
fortable steamer  chair  under  the  wide  deck 
awnings  and  watch  the  panorama  on  shore 
— the  green  fields  growing  right  down  to  the 
water's  edge,  the  trees  and  the  wild  flowers 
just  bursting  into  bloom — pink  and  white, 
and  yellow  and  pale  lilac — a  perfect  kaleido- 

70 


up   the   Yangtze  71 

scope  of  delicate  colors,  wafting  a  wealth  of 
sweet  perfume.  From  lofty  mountain  peaks 
against  the  skyline  in  the  distance  you  see 
tall  pagodas  rise — shrines  where  worship- 
ping hundreds  climb  the  steep  sides  to  bow 
to  Buddha.  All  along  shore  are  fishermen's 
huts  of  straw,  and  sampans  heavily  laden 
with  freight  and  passengers  are  towed  along- 
side, a  single  coolie  being  the  motive  power, 
walking  in  a  path  and  pulling  the  boat,  after 
the  fashion  of  mules  on  a  canal. 

Every  August  the  river  overflows  its 
banks,  at  some  points  rising  as  high  as  the 
trees  along  shore.  It  is  then  that  we  read 
in  our  home  papers  of  the  awful  destruction 
of  life  and  of  crops.  This  annual  summer 
overflow  is  caused  by  snow  melting  in  the 
mountains  above  the  source  of  the  river. 
Many  people  plan  to  go  back  inland  each 
summer  and  so  arrange  their  crops  that 
they  can  be  harvested  before  floodtime. 

The  steamers  operated  on  the  river  are 
comfortable  to  the  point  of  luxury.  They 
accommodate  about  twenty-five  first-class 
passengers  and  the  state  rooms  are  far  more 
commodious  than  on  the  great  ocean  liners. 
Tliere  are  no  upper  berths  and  you  enjoy 
all  the  delights  of  a  model  houseboat.     Our 


72  Journeying  Round   the    World 

steamer  was  a  perfect  little  gem  of  a  craft 
— painted  snow  white  with  soft  green  silken 
hangings  in  her  saloons,  and  growing  palms 
giving  an  artistic  touch. 

In  my  American  egotism,  I  had  expected 
something  rather  crude  in  the  shape  of  a 
tug  that  would  convey  us  into  the  heart  of 
heathen  China,  and  I  was  so  amazed  at  the 
wholly  modern  and  strictly  down-to-date  ar- 
rangements of  this  trim  river  steamer  that 
I  remarked  to  the  skipper : 

"I  suppose  this  is  a  new  line,  is  it  not?" 
"It  has  been  in  operation  forty  years, 
Madame,"  was  his  reply;  and  I  was  sudden- 
ly shocked  into  a  very  real  realization  of 
how  young,  and  immature  and  ignorant  I 
was.  This  impression  of  the  youth  and  te- 
merity of  our  young  republic  deepens  as  you 
sail  on  up  the  Yangtze  past  fertile  fields  and 
realize  that  for  thousands  of  years  this  same 
agricultural  activity  has  been  going  on,  year 
after  year,  generation  after  generation- 
long  before  America  was  even  on  the  map. 
We  recall  too  that  a  school  of  languages 
flourished  in  China  nearly  four  thousand 
years  ago,  and  that  the  oldest  newspaper 
in  the  world,  published  in  Peking,  appeared 
regularly  before  many  Western  peoples  had 
devised  an  alphabet. 


up  the   Yangtze  73 

The  steamer  touches  at  various  cities  and 
towns — at  Chinkiang,  Kiukiang,  Wuhu,  and 
at  Nanking — where  on  our  return  trip  we 
stop  over  for  a  day  to  visit  the  famous  Ming 
Tombs  and  to  explore  this  beautiful  old 
city  with  its  willow-shaded  roads,  its  great 
wall,  and  its  splendid  mission  schools. 

Early  in  the  morning  of  om*  fourth  day 
from  Shanghai  our  steamer  moors  at  the 
wharf  at  Hankow.  It  is  here  that  the  great 
Russian  tea  houses  are  located  and  a  visit  to 
one  of  them  is  worth  while.  You  will  see 
how  the  tea  leaves  are  handled,  from  the 
best  grade  to  the  lowest,  and  not  an  atom 
wasted.  The  dust  of  the  leaves  is  made  into 
bricks  to  be  used  for  the  exiles  in  Siberia. 
These  bricks  are  as  black  as  coal  and  as 
hard  as  the  ordinary  brick  of  commerce. 
You  can  flake  off  enough  to  dissolve  in  a 
cup  of  hot  water  and  it  makes  a  faii'ly  decent 
cup  of  tea.  For  six  weeks  in  the  year — 
from  May  till  the  middle  of  June — the  tea 
taster  is  the  grand  Mogul  in  Hankow.  It  is 
his  business  to  taste  and  test  all  the  various 
brands  and  on  his  judgment  rests  its  market 
value.  It  is  said  that  he  never  swallows  his 
sample  sip,  and  even  then  the  nervous  strain 
is  so  great  that  no  tea-taster  can  endure  his 


74  Joumeyfing   Round   the    World 

exacting  duty  longer  than  ten  or  twelve 
years. 

It  was  in  Hankow  that  we  saw  an  illustra- 
tion of  the  Chinese  method  of  punishing 
criminals.  We  were  passing  the  police  sta- 
tion and  noticed  across  the  street  several 
Chinamen  standing  in  a  row,  the  head  of 
each  thrust  through  a  hole  in  an  immense 
square  board  on  which  was  written  in  huge 
Chinese  characters  the  nature  of  the  crime 
he  had  committed  which  in  this  case  was 
thieving.  The  chief  of  police,  who  was  an 
Englishman,  told  us  that  these  men  were 
condemned  to  stand  thus  all  day  long  for 
thirty  days  in  the  public  streets  as  punish- 
ment. 


Sailing  Toward  the  Equator. 

We  sailed  from  Shanghai  on  the  Delta 
and  nowhere  in  all  our  travels  did  we  see 
such  glorious  sunsets  as  in  those  tropic  skies 
til  at  bend  above  the  blue  waters  of  the  China 
Sea.  The  wondrous  cloud  effects  of  gold 
;uid  crimson,  of  purpling  lights  and  shadows 
in  which  the  twilight  lingered  were  enchant- 
ing. The  second  morning  after  leaving 
Shanghai  we  found  ourselves  in  the  tropics 
and  heavy  clothing  was  quickly  exchanged 
for  summer  garb,  while  electric  fans  began 
whirling  in  cabins  and  dining  saloon. 

We  spent  thirty  hours  at  Hongkong, 
sailing  south  at  noon  on  the  last  day  of 
April.  The  scene  presented  by  this  won- 
derful city  at  night  is  one  never  to  be  for- 
gotten. As  we  sat  on  deck  we  faced  a  literal 
fairyland  of  flashing  lights.  On  every  craft 
afloat  in  the  bay — and  there  were  hundreds 
of  them  —  and  from  the  windows  of  every 
building  on  shore,  which  stretch  from  the 
water  front  to  the  summit  of  the  loftiest 
peaks,  flashed  and  twinkled  the  flame  of  an 
electric  bulb,  or  a  brilliant  arc  light,  until  it 

75 


76  Journeying   Round    the    World 

seemed  that  the  stars  of  heaven  itself  had 
come  down  to  rest  upon  this  enchanted  bay 
and  wondrous  city  builded  on  the  heights 
which  rise  abruptly  on  the  little  island  that 
lies  like  a  jewel  at  the  mouth  of  the  river 
which  here  mingles  its  waters  with  those  of 
the  sea. 

And  right  here  I  want  to  give  my  readers 
a  tip  that  Hongkong  is  a  splendid  place  to 
shop.  Never  mind  the  heat,  even  though  the 
perspiration  bathes  your  brow  and  drips  off 
your  nose — you  just  shop — and  if  you  are 
too  lazy  to  leave  the  ship,  shop  right  there, 
for  the  merchants  fairly  swarm  on  board 
bringing  their  goods.  You  may  order  a 
pongee  or  linen  suit  made  for  yourself,  your 
husband  or  your  daughter  and  it  will  be  de- 
livered on  board  next  morning.  The  drawn 
work,  grass  cloth  and  laces  make  you  fairly 
hold  your  breath.  You  can  buy  a  waist  pat- 
tern, done  in  beautiful  Canton  drawn  work 
for  $1.25  in  gold,  and  strips  of  this  exquisite, 
lace-like  handwork  may  be  piu'chased  for 
as  little  as  fifteen  cents  a  yard. 

Then  there's  the  bamboo  and  rattan 
chairs.  On  this  English  line  of  steamers, 
unlike  the  Pacific  Mail  and  Atlantic  liners, 
we  could  not  rent  a  steamer  chair  for  the 


Sailing   Toivard  the  Equator  77 

voyage.  But  that 's  no  hardship  or  extra  ex- 
pense, for  you  can  buy  one  in  Hongkong 
for  about  the  same  money  you  pay  for  the 
nse  of  one  across  the  Pacific  or  the  Atlantic. 
It  fairly  rends  your  soul  that  you  cannot 
carry  your  prize  through  Europe  and  on 
home  with  you,  but  such  a  proceeding  would 
cost  more  than  a  dozen  chairs.  You  no 
sooner  come  to  anchor  in  the  bay  of  Hong- 
kong than  Chinese  merchants  swarm  the 
decks  offering  these  chairs  for  sale.  If  you 
talk  long  enough,  and  act  indifferent  enough, 
you'll  secure  a  splendid  rattan  steamer  chair, 
with  sufficient  extension  to  allow  you  to 
lounge  at  full  length,  for  the  modest  sum 
of  $1.25. 

One  of  the  sights  of  Hongkong  is  its  fa- 
mous Flower  Street.  It  is  one  of  those  steep 
streets  in  which  that  city  abounds.  You 
have  to  climb  cement  stairs  as  you  ascend — 
leading  right  up  the  slope  from  Queen 
Street,  and  when  you  come  to  it  you  will 
utter  an  involuntary  cry  of  delight.  Stretch- 
ing up  the  incline  for  a  block  or  more  is  a 
continuous  bazaar  of  the  loveliest  cut 
flowers.  Great  clusters  of  Easter  lilies  were 
thrust  in  our  faces — a  dozen  or  more  bios- 


78  Journeying   Round    the    World 

soms  in  the  bunch — for  the  modest  price  of 
fifteen  cents. 

Then  you  must  make  the  ascent  to  the 
Peak  by  the  electric  tram.  In  seven  min- 
utes from  the  time  you  leave  the  sea  level 
you  are  three  thousand  feet  above  it  with  a 
marvelous  panoramic  view  of  the  bay,  the 
city  and  the  sea  stretched  out  before  3^ou. 
On  your  wa}^  down,  get  off  at  Bowen  Road 
and  walk  through  the  winding  roads  past 
gardens  of  flowers  and  ferns,  of  banyan  and 
bamboo  trees,  in  the  midst  of  which  are  set 
beautiful  homes.  You  will  come  out  in 
Queen's  Road  in  the  heart  of  the  shopping 
district. 

Thirty  hours  from  Hongkong  and  you  are 
at  Singapore — the  halfway  house  in  your 
great  swing  around  the  circle.  You  are  now 
about  eighty  miles  from  the  equator  and 
naturally  expect  to  find  it  hot  and  humid.  A 
rip-roaring  thunder  storm  heralded  our 
arrival  there  and  cooled  the  atmosphere  in 
the  most  agreeable  manner.  I  have  suffered 
more  from  heat  and  humidity  on  a  summer 
day  in  New  York  than  I  did  during  the 
twenty-hours  we  were  in  Singapore  imder 
the  very  shine  of  the  equator. 

A  young  native,  clad  in  spotless  white 


Sailing   Toward  the  Equator  79 

duck,  who  came  aboard  directly  our  ship  lay 
at  anchor,  surveyed  our  party  carefully  and 
promptly  claimed  us  for  his  own.  He  dis- 
pla}'ed  a  letter  of  recommendation  from  the 
American  Consul,  calmly  attached  himself 
to  us  with  an  air  of  proprietorship,  politely 
but  firmly  ignored  all  efforts  to  shake  him 
off,  escorted  us  ashore,  placed  us  in  a  tram 
car,  disembarked  us  when  we  reached  the 
city,  bundled  us  into  a  gharry — we  had 
ceased  to  resist  by  this  time — and  proceeded 
to  show  us  the  city,  and  the  surroundings 
thereof,  including  Johore,  distant  an  hour 
b}'  steam  car.  Truth  to  tell,  he  did  it  rather 
well,  too.  He  took  us  first  to  the  museum 
where  we  saw  a  regular  canned  menagerie — 
enough  tigers,  and  lions,  and  beasts  and 
birds  and  reptiles  to  haunt  your  dreams 
forever. 

The  island  of  Singapore,  it  nmst  be  remem- 
bered, is  known  as  the  Lion  Island,  owing  to 
tlie  many  lions  that  stalk  through  its  jungles. 
Tigers  too^  abound,  and  the  first  thing  that 
greeted  us  as  we  entered  the  nuiseum  was 
a  huge  stuffed  tiger  killed  by  the  Sultan  of 
Johore,  and  presented  by  him  to  the  mu- 
seum. This  .\[alay  monster  reclined  in  such 
a  lifelike  position  in  his  glass  cage  and  had 


80  Journeying   Round   the    World 

such  a  sardonic  grin  on  his  classic  features 
that  Peggy  began  softly  chanting  her  favor- 
ite limerick: 

"There  was  a  young  lady  of  Niger, 
Who  sat  on  the  back  of  a  tiger,"  etc. 

We  went  to  the  Botanical  Gardens — ail 
these  Oriental  cities  have  botanical  gardens 
— they  don't  call  them  parks  over  there. 
The  soil  of  Singapore  is  such  a  brilliant  brick 
color  that  the  roads  literally  run  red  be- 
tween the  close-cut  turf  of  green  and  the 
rich,  rank  growth  of  vines  and  hedges.  We 
tasted  the  delicious  fruits  of  the  tropics — 
mangosteens,  the  queer,  little  dwarfed  ba- 
nanas, and  other  luscious  products  known 
only  to  equatorial  regions. 

The  roads  in  and  about  Singapore  might 
be  held  up  as  models  to  the  nations  of  the 
earth — so  smooth  and  hard,  so  beautifully 
laid  out,  curving  past  pineapple  plantations, 
groves  of  rubber  trees  and  sago  palms  and 
tapioca  fields.  There  are  hundreds  of  auto- 
mobiles in  Singapore  and  the  familiar  honk- 
honk  was  good  to  our  American  ears  after 
our  sojourn  in  the  land  of  the  'riksha  and 
sedan  chair,  the  hard-working  coolie  and  the 
human  horses  of  China  and  Japan.  Singa- 
pore swings  like  a  pendant  from  the  south- 


Sailing   Tort>ard  the  Equator  81 

eru  tip  of  the  Malay  Peninsula,  and  is  only 
separated  by  a  narrow  strait  less  than  a 
mile  wide,  from  the  mainland  of  Asia.  The 
island  is  egg-shaped,  and  is  twenty-eight 
miles  long  by  fourteen  miles  wide. 

The  next  port  is  Penang,  about  twenty- 
four  hours'  sail  from  Singapore,  and  one  of 
the  most  charming  places  at  which  your 
ship  touches.  Be  sure  to  go  ashore  at 
Penang. 


Ceylon's  Spicy  Breezes. 

"May  I  put  in  the  wind  chute,  Madame'?" 
were  the  first  words  that  greeted  my  sleepy 
ears  as  the  flush  of  dawn  swept  the  rosy 
sky  above  the  broad  expanse  of  the  Indian 
Ocean. 

My  soul  grew  sick  with  fear  and  I  stam- 
mered, "Is — is — it  getting  rough'?"  while 
visions  of  the  mal  de  mer  I  had  bm^ied  in  the 
China  Sea,  now  leagues  behind,  flashed 
through  my  mental  vision. 

"No,  Madame,  no — smoother,"  was  the 
reassuring  reply  of  the  steward,  "and 
warmer.  This  chute  will  send  a  current  of 
air  through  your  cabin,"  and  he  proceeded 
to  fix  in  place  a  section  of  metal  pipe  which 
projected  out  beyond  the  port-hole. 

Instantly  a  miniature  cyclone  of  salt,  sea 
air  shot  through  the  pipe  almost  blowing 
me  out  of  my  berth.  That  blessed  "shoot" 
caught  every  wandering  breeze  on  the  In- 
dian Ocean,  and  a  few  from  the  Arabian 
Sea  to  the  north  of  us,  I  suspect,  and  swept 
them  through  our  cabin. 

Peggy  stirred  sleepily  on  her  upper  shelf 

82 


Ceylon's  Spic^   Breezes  83 

and  murmured  something  about  the  spicy 
breezes  that  blow  soft  o'er  Ceylon's  isle. 

The  entrance  to  the  harbor  of  Colombo  is 
said  to  be  the  narrowest  in  the  world  en- 
tered by  big  ships.  A  breakwater  encloses 
it,  and  Just  outside,  our  pilot  came  aboard  as 
tlie  Delta  lazily  sailed  along  toward  the  en- 
trance at  nine  o'clock  on  a  glorious  starlight 
night.  It  seemed  as  if  the  sides  of  the  great 
ship  almost  grazed  the  bulkheads  from 
which  glared  two  immense  headlights — one 
red  and  the  other  green — each  marking  the 
edge  of  the  seawall  and  showing  the  width 
of  the  entrance. 

An  Englishman  stood  at  my  side  as  we 
loaned  over  the  bow  watching  the  careful 
ajid  accurate  piloting  of  our  ship  through 
the  narrow  way. 

"Some  of  these  pilots  make  a  thousand 
pounds  a  year,"  he  remarked,  "guiding  ves- 
sels into  the  harbor.  You  see  our  passage 
or-cupies  about  ten  minutes  and  the  man  at 
the  wheel  gets  three  or  four  pounds  for  the 
service." 

Another  instance  of  the  value  of  "know- 
ing how." 

Peggy  and  T  did  Colombo  by  tram,  ridinir 
in  the  second  class  compartment  with  the 


84  Journeying   Round   the    World 

hoi  polloi,  so  to  speak.  The  first  class  com- 
partment consisted  of  the  front  seat  only, 
which  could  be  shared  with  the  mot  or  man. 
He  was  big  and  brown  and  greasy  looking, 
and  as  it  cost  as  much  again  to  ride  out 
there,  Peggy  and  I  decided  to  economize 
and  at  the  same  time  get  the  local  color  of 
the  place  by  fraternizing  with  the  natives. 
We  recklessly  embarked  on  the  first  tram  we 
met  and  when  the  conductor  came  for  fares, 
we  politely  opened  our  purses  and  let  him 
extract  the  needful  coin.  In  this  way  we 
rode  twelve  miles  over  two  different  lines 
for  as  many  cents.  Seeing  that  we  were 
orphans  and  alone,  and  foreigners  at  that, 
the  Singhalese  conductor,  who  spoke  fairly 
good  English,  constituted  himself  our  guide, 
philosopher  and  friend,  pointing  out  the 
places  of  interest  as  we  passed. 

On  our  return  from  this  sight-seeing  trip 
we  drank  delicious  Ceylon  tea  in  a  pictur- 
esque pagoda-like  tea  house,  and  prowled 
about  the  shops,  for  here  as  elsewhere  in  the 
Orient,  shopping  is  a  very  fascinating  busi- 
ness. Eeally,  though,  the  best  place  to  shop 
at  Ceylon  is  on  shipboard.  The  shops  come 
to  you  in  the  shape  of  swarthy  merchants 
carrying  big  bundles  of  laces,  exquisitely 


Ce})lon5  Spic^  Breezes  85 

wrought  grass-cloth  dress  and  waist  pat- 
terns, and  trays  of  jewels  which  they  spread 
out  before  you  as  you  sit  lazily  in  your 
steamer  chair  and  barter,  bargain  and  buy 
to  your  heart's  content. 

And  such  a  sliding  scale  of  prices  makes 
your  arithmetic  fairly  dizzy!  Asking  the 
price  of  a  thing  is  merely  opening  the  con- 
versation, as  someone  has  said.  These 
shrewd  and  wily  merchants  of  the  Far  East 
are  guided  in  their  dealings  solely  by  the 
rule  of  greed  which  extracts  every  fraction 
of  a  rupee  that  you  will  pay.  The  best  time 
to  buy  is  just  before  the  ship  sails — imme- 
diately after  the  natives  are  warned  off  deck 
by  the  ship's  officers.  This  is  the  crucial 
moment — it  is  a  case  of  now  or  never,  and 
prices  fall  like  magic. 

You  are  amazed  to  find  that  the  handful 
of  stones  —  shining  sapphires,  red  rubies, 
milky  moonstones,  opals,  turquoise  and  glit- 
tering gems  of  all  sorts — precious  and  semi- 
precious— no  one  knows  but  an  ex])ert — 
may  be  had  now  for  thirty  shillings,  whore- 
as  the  original  asking  price  was  seven 
pounds  sterling.  The  lovely  Maltese  lace 
handkerchief  likewise  has  shrunk  in  value 
to   a   mere   shilling,   and   your  soul   fairly 


86  Journeying   Round   the    World 

shouts  with  glee  as  you  shell  out  the  shil- 
lings, rupees  and  pence  to  possess  yourself 
of  these  jewels  and  laces  of  Ceylon. 

You  will  observe  that  the  costumes  of 
these  people  down  here  near  the  equator 
are  noted  chiefly  for  their  simplicity  and 
brevity.  The  children  wear,  for  the  most 
part,  only  their  shining  black  skins  and  a 
bright  smile — and  they  look  like  little 
ebony  gods.  The  men  wear  their  hair  long 
and  twisted  into  a  tight  knot  at  the  nape  of 
the  neck,  drawn  back  from  the  forehead  by 
a  huge  tortoise-shell  comb,  like  the  circle 
comb  of  our  grandmother's  childish  days, 
and  which  sets  up  like  a  halo. 

The  fashionable  costume  for  the  women 
consists  of  a  couple  of  yards  of  bright,  plaid 
gingham,  pinned  around  the  waist,  its  scant 
folds  falling  to  .just  below  the  knee.  The 
waist  is  of  white  cotton  cloth  elaborately 
trimmed  with  coarse  lace  through  the 
meshes  of  which  the  dark  skin  shows,  em- 
phasizing the  pattern  of  the  lace. 

The  popular  native  conveyance  in  Colom- 
bo is  a  two-wheeled  cart  drawn  by  a  pair  of 
small  water  buffaloes,  funny  little  animals 
that  look  like  diminutive  cows  with  humps 
back    of    their    necks.     There    are    street 


Cey)lons  Spic^  Breezes  87 

pumps  everywhere  and  the  natives  take 
their  baths  under  them,  splashing  the  water 
over  their  half  clad  bodies,  and  drinking 
from  oocoanut  shells. 


The  Red  Sea. 

We  approached  the  Red  Sea  with  con- 
siderable trepidation,  not  knowing  just 
what  to  expect  in  the  way  of  climate  from 
the  conflicting  reports  we  had  heard — dire 
tales  of  death,  disease,  and  even  insanity. 

''Of  course  you  intend  to  sleep  on  deck 
in  your  steamer  chair  when  we  're  in  the  Red 
Sea ' '  ventured  a  nervous  woman  whose  hus- 
band's  aunt's  neighbor  had  made  the  trip 
ten  years  ago. 

Another  solemnly  informed  us  that  fre- 
quently the  ship  is  compelled  to  turn 
around  and  go  in  the  opposite  direction  for 
half  an  hour  or  so  at  a  time,  in  order  to 
catch  the  breeze  from  the  southeast  and 
give  passengers  a  chance  to  gasp  a  few  times 
and  renew  the  supply  of  oxygen  in  their 
lungs. 

A  dyspeptic  looking  man  groaned  feebly 
and  remarked  in  a  funereal  tone  that  he  had 
heard  that  passengers  sometimes  went 
quite  insane  from  the  awful  heat  and  had  to 
be  guarded  to  prevent  them  from  jumping 
overboard. 

88 


The  Red  Sea  89 

Another  fellow  passenger  laughed  to 
scorn  all  these  gloomy  predictions  and  ad- 
vised us  to  get  out  our  steamer  rugs.  He 
said  that  he  had  actually  suffered  from  cold 
on  previous  trips  when  passing  through 
this  body  of  water  which  flows  between  two 
deserts. 

So  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  we  were 
uncertain  as  to  what  new  terrors  awaited 
us  in  this  sea  through  which  the  hosts  of 
Pharaoh  passed.  We  reached  Aden  in  the 
early  morning  and  our  ship  lay  there  several 
hours  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  mail 
steamer  from  Bombay. 

The  most  prominent  feature  of  the  land- 
scape at  Aden  is  the  town-clock  which 
towers  above  the  huddle  of  red-roofed  build- 
ings, clinging  like  swallows'  nests  to  the 
steep,  rocky  sides  of  the  frowning  cliffs 
which  rise  from  the  shore.  Not  a  spear  of 
grass  or  vegetation  anywhere.  A  few 
sickly  trees  of  straggling  growth  speak  pa- 
thetically of  effort  to  create  artificial  shade 
from  the  pitiless  glare  of  the  sun  which 
scorches  the  grim  rocks  and  the  fortress- 
guarded  port  which  forms  the  gateway  to 
the  Red  Sea. 

Evidently  there  is  a  wag  at  Aden  for  we 


90  Journeying   Round   the    World 

beheld  such  signs  as  ''Keep  Off  the  Grass" 
and  "Do  Not  Pick  the  Mowers"  posted  up 
here  and  there  in  the  public  square  which 
faces  the  water  front.  Camels  solemnly 
parade  the  single  street  hauling  two- 
wheeled  carts,  and  Aden  possesses  several 
auto-omnibuses  which  convey  tourists  to 
the  famous  water  tanks  discovered  some 
sixty  years  ago,  excavated  out  of  solid  rock, 
no  one  knows  how  many  centuries  gone. 
Some  say  in  King  Solomon's  time.  The  pur- 
pose of  these  huge  reservoirs,  it  is  supposed, 
was  to  store  water  to  supply  the  inhabitants 
of  Aden  and  a  pessimist  on  board  remarked 
that,  according  to  report  handed  down  from 
generation  to  generation,  it  has  never 
rained  in  Aden  since  Solomon's  reign. 

An  Australian  editor  however,  who  went 
out  to  inspect  the  tanks,  told  me  that  he  had 
heard  it  rumored  that  actual  records  show  it 
does  rain  in  Aden  once  in  seven  years,  and 
some  of  the  oldest  inhabitants  declare  that 
on  one  occasion  the  lapse  between  drouth 
and  rain  was  but  five  years. 

At  six  o'clock  we  sailed  away  with  over 
two  hundred  enormous  sacks  of  Indian  mail 
stored  away  in  our  hold,  transferred  from 
the  Bombay  steamer.    India  must  keep  up 


The  Red  Sea  91 

quite  a  lively  correspondence  with  England. 

If  it  hadn't  been  for  that  "following 
wind"  our  passage  of  the  Red  Sea  would 
have  been  most  comfortable.  But  that 
breeze  pursued  us — it  never  faced  us — and 
not  a  breath  of  it  did  we  get.  However,  this 
zephyr  from  the  parched  Arabian  desert  fol- 
lowed us  but  one  day  out  of  the  three  which 
tlie  trip  consumed,  and  with  this  exception 
we  were  as  cool  and  comfortable  as  when 
sailing  in  the  Indian  Ocean. 

We  entered  the  Suez  Canal  late  in  the 
afternoon  and  at  sunset  passed  the  former 
residence  of  De  Lesseps,  the  great  French 
engineer  to  whose  genius  this  waterway  con- 
ufH-ting  Europe  with  the  Orient  is  due.  The 
once  handsome  home  is  quite  deserted  now. 
It  stands  on  a  height  overlooking  the  canal 
and  commanding  a  superb  view. 

Every  steamer  that  passes  through  the 
canal  must  pay  high  into  the  thousands  for 
the  privilege.  There  is  a  toll  of  two  dollars 
per  capita  for  every  man,  woman  and  child 
on  board,  beside  the  tonnage  tax  which,  at 
a  rate  not  less  than  $1.50  per  ton,  runs  up 
into  the  tidy  sum  of  $15,000  for  a  10,000-ton 
ship.  That  the  Suez  Canal  has  paid  almost 
from  the  start  goes  without  saying.    Prank 


92  Journeying   Round   the    World 

G.  Carpenter,  the  well-known  traveler  and 
newspaper  correspondent,  says : 

**The  last  time  I  traversed  the  canal  the 
steamer  took  eighteen  hours  and  the  charge 
for  the  ship  was  just  about  $500  per  hour. 
The  stock  is  as  high  as  anything  sold  in  Wall 
street.  The  bulk  of  it  is  owned  by  Great 
Britain,  and  although  the  French  nominally 
control  the  canal  its  real  direction  comes 
from  John  Bull.  As  it  is  now,  no  large  block 
of  the  common  stock  appears  to  be  owned  by 
any  individual  or  corporation  or  other 
government.  John  Bull  is  said  to  have  a 
large  majority  of  the  whole,  and  the  next 
shareholder  in  point  of  ownership  is  a 
Frenchman  who  has  only  a  little  more  than 
1500  shares  out  of  the  whole  400,000.  As  I 
remember  it  the  British  government  bought 
176,000  shares  of  the  old  Khedive,  Ismail 
Pasha,  getting  the  same  through  a  loan  of 
$20,000,000,  which  was  made  by  the  Roths- 
childs originally,  and  finally  turned  over  to 
the  British  government.  That  investment 
of  $20,000,000  was  one  of  the  best  John  Bull 
has  ever  made.  The  stock  which  he  has 
bought  is  now  worth  more  than  $150,000,000, 
and  it  has  paid  $60,000,000  or  $70,000,000  in 
dividends." 


Cairo,  City  of  Mosques,  Min- 
arets and  Mosquitos. 

As  yoiir  train  speeds  away  from  Port  Said 
out  into  the  desert  toward  Cairo  the  clear, 
dry  air  comes  as  the  breath  of  life  to  your 
nostrils  after  the  sticky,  humid  heat  of  the 
Red  Sea  and  the  equatorial  regions.  After 
])assing  Ismalia  on  the  Suez  Canal,  you  leave 
the  dry  desert  and  your  way  lies  through 
fields  of  golden  grain,  fertile  meadows  and 
growing  gardens.  Rows  of  stately  eucalyp- 
tus trees,  hedges  of  scarlet  geraniums,  ole- 
ander trees  and  moonflowers  clambering 
riotously  over  palings  surrounding  the  little 
railway  stations  bear  striking  resemblance 
to  the  vegetation  of  our  own  Southern  Cali- 
fornia. 

It  is  a  four  hours'  ride  from  Port  Said  to 
Cairo — city  of  mosques  and  minarets,  mum- 
mies and  museums,  camels  and  cafes,  of  the 
red  fez  and  the  mellow  skies.  The  nights 
were  cool  and  comforta1)le  when  we  were 
there  in  late  May,  but  at  mid-day  the  ther- 
mometer climbed  to  eighty-seven  degrees, 
and  from  that  hour  until  three  o'clock  Inisi- 

93 


94  Journeying   Round   the    World 

ness  is  practically  suspended.  Stores  and 
offices  close  and  apparenth^  all  Cairo  sleeps ; 
the  camels  doze  in  the  shade  and  the  Arab 
shop-keepers  frequently  lie,  stretched  at 
full  length,  in  the  doorways  of  their  bazaars. 

Carlo  is  afflicted  with  swarms  of  flies  and 
mosquitoes,  and  no  effort  seems  to  be  made 
to  exclude  them  from  buildings  b}"  means  of 
screens.  They  wander  in  and  out  at  their 
own  sweet  will.  The  beds  in  the  hotels  are 
provided  with  mosquito  bars  of  fine  netting 
which  fall  in  ample  folds  about  your  couch, 
affording  effectual  protection  while  you 
sleep,  providing  you  can  dodge  under  when 
the  mosquito  isn't  looking — otherwise  he 
will  accompany  you  and  in  the  morning  you 
will  discover  that  he  has  been  there  from  the 
print  of  his  teeth  in  sundry  and  numerous 
places  on  your  anatomy.  Unlike  the  Jersey 
mosquito,  the  Cairo  variety  does  not  buzz; 
he  is  small;  his  bite  is  mild  and  modest,  but 
nevertheless  irritating. 

There  is  a  strange  incongruous  mingling 
of  the  modern  and  the  ancient  in  this  quaint 
old  city  of  some  700,000  souls.  You  dream 
of  the  old  Bible  pictures  you  used  to  study 
on  Sunday  afternoons  when  you  were  a  child, 
as  you  watch  the  water-carriers  going  about 


Cairo,  Cit}f  of  Mosques  95 

the  streets  with  jugs  poised  on  their  heads, 
or  carrying  a  sheepskin  filled  with  the  water 
of  the  Nile.  You  notice  mysteriously  veiled 
Egyjitian  women  slipping  silently  through 
the  streets,  and  you  see  donkeys,  their  necks 
decorated  with  strings  of  gay  beads,  di'iven 
about  attached  to  queer  carts  with  huge 
wheels.  There  are  bread  sellers  with  big 
trays  of  the  flat,  round  loaves  resting  on 
their  heads;  camels  laden  with  freshl.y  cut 
clover  stride  through  the  streets,  and  every- 
where, as  twilight  falls,  are  outdoor  cafes, 
with  tables  spread  on  the  pavements  and 
surroiuided  with  Arabs,  Bedouins,  Copts — a 
medley  of  Oriental  nationalities — each  clad 
in  his  native  costume.  Practically  all  Cairo 
dines  in  the  open.  At  Shepheard's  Hotel  we 
took  all  our  meals  in  a  half-enclosed  porch, 
and  some  dined  outside  under  the  trees. 
You  are  served  by  picturesque  Arab  waiters, 
clad  in  white  Turkish  trousers,  with  gay 
scarlet  jackets.  Oriental  sashes,  a  red  fez  on 
the  head,  and  pointed  Morocco  sandals  on  the 
feet. 

As  you  gaze  at  the  ancient  scenes  in  the 
streets  of  Cairo,  suddenly  a  ])ig  motor  car 
whizzes  by,  or  a  bicycle  shoots  past,  or  a 
modern  victoria  drawn  by  a  splendid  pair  of 


96  Journeying   Round   the    World 

Arabian  horses  dashes  along,  and  you? 
dreams  of  ancient  times  are  rudely  dispelled 
and  you  are  suddenly  brought  down  to  date, 
as  it  were. 

Among  the  fascinations  of  Cairo,  especial- 
ly to  feminine  tourists,  are  the  Turkish  ba- 
zaars, where  your  soul  revels  in  rich  tapes- 
tries, glittering  scarfs,  scarabs,  jewels  and 
gorgeous  Egyptian  embroideries.  The  ba- 
zaar district,  or  ''Mousky,"  extends  for 
blocks  along  narrow  streets  with  a  mere 
ledge  of  a  sidewalk.  You  are  jostled  by 
throngs  of  Arabs,  Egyptians,  veiled  ladies, 
street  peddlers,  water  carriers,  donkeys, 
carriages,  carts,  goats  and  pedestrians  of  all 
classes  and  conditions  of  men  and  beasts. 

The  bazaars  and  shops  present  a  tawdry 
front — like  the  cheap  department  stores  at 
home — and  you  wonder  if  any  good  can 
possibly  come  out  of  this  part  of  Egypt,  but 
if  you  push  your  way  past  the  rolls  of  carpet, 
the  piles  of  rugs,  and  the  hanging  draperies 
into  the  shadowy  depths  of  the  interior,  you 
come  at  last  to  the  choicest  goods — folded 
away  on  shelves  behind  the  counters  or  shut 
up  in  boxes,  drawers  and  cases.  You  sit  on 
a  divan  and  the  display  begins.  Lovely 
scarfs,  like  silvery  snakes,  beautifully  em- 


Cairo,  City  of  Mosques  97 

broidered  fabrics  crusted  with  glittering 
scales  are  held  up  for  youi*  admiration.  All 
the  shop-keepers  either  speak  English  them- 
selves or  employ  clerks  who  do.  You  know 
it  was  the  Cairo  merchant  who  placed  over 
his  door  a  sign  reading:  "I  can  speak  English 
and  understand  American. ' ' 

The  best  bazaars  maintain  a  fixed  price, 
and  no  amount  of  bantering  moves  the  mer- 
chant. "Not  one  piastre  less"  is  his  slogan, 
and  no  sort  of  argument,  persuasion  or 
threat  can  move  him  to  alter  that  fixed  price. 

"I'll  give  you  one  pound  for  these,"  said 
Peggy,  as  she  piled  up  a  beaded  Egyptian 
scarf  and  a  couple  of  embroidered  pillow 
tops. 

"One  pound,  sixpence,"  politely  cor- 
rected the  merchant. 

"No — just  one  pound  even — five  dollars 
American  money"  persisted  Peggy  with  true 
Yankee  thrift — "that's  only  throwing  off 
twelve  cents." 

But  the  merchant  was  obdurate.  "Not  a 
single  half  piastre  less.  It  is  our  fixed  price" 
he  reiterated.  Peggy  was  as  independent  as 
he  was  determined  and  so  the  bargain  fell 
through — for  that  da}'.  Next  morning 
Peggy  sent  an  ambassador  to  buy  the  goods, 


98  Journeying  Round   the    World 

thereby  maintaining  her  dignity  and  secur- 
ing the  coveted  merchandise. 

The  zoological  gardens  at  Cairo  have  a  per- 
fect menagerie  in  captivit}^ — a  regular  Bar- 
num-Ringling-Forepaugh  show  combined. 
No  trouble  to  keep  up  an  animal  exhibit  in 
Africa.  Just  go  out  in  the  jungles  and  catch 
snakes  or  lasso  lions,  giraffes,  tigers,  ele- 
phants— any  sort  of  animals  you  want. 

In  the  great  museum  you  will  see  more 
mummies,  relics  and  prehistoric  wonders 
than  you  ever  dreamed  of.  Preserved  Phar- 
oahs  abound  and  you  will  feel  younger  than 
you  ever  did  before  in  your  life — positively 
childish — as  you  gaze  on  their  ancient,  mum- 
mified features.  You  are  doubly  impressed 
too  with  the  fact  that  "there's  nothing  new 
under  the  sun"  when  you  notice  the  leather- 
tired  wheels  of  an  old  chariot,  dating  back 
almost  B.  C. — same  style  as  our  modern  rub- 
ber tires. 

"Well  just  look  at  that  log  cabin  patch- 
work, will  you'?"  exclaimed  Peggy  as  she 
pointed  to  an  exhibit  a  thousand  or  two  years 
old  in  a  glass  case.  Sure  enough!  There  it 
was — same  pattern  our  grandmothers  ori- 
ginated (?)  half  a  century  ago. 

You  will  want  to  spend  one  day  visiting 


Cairo,  City  of  Mosques  99 

the  citadel,  the  mosque  of  Sultan  Hassam 
and  of  Mohammed  Pasha.  Almost  every 
guide  has  a  different  story  to  tell,  and  in 
most  instances  sacred  and  profane  history 
are  strangely  mixed  with  myths  and  fairy 
tales,  but  each  account  is  entertaining  if  not 
strictly  authentic. 

"This,  ladies  and  gentlemen,"  rattled  on 
AFohammed  Ahmed,  our  guide,  "is  the 
mosriue  built  by  Sultan  Hassam  over  five 
lumdred  years  ago  from  granite  taken  from 
tlu^  ])yramids.  It  cost  him  five  hundred 
sovereigns  each  and  every  day  during  the 
tlii'ee  years  of  its  construction,  and  when  it 
was  completed  he  caused  the  hands  of  the 
architects  to  be  cut  off  so  that  the  mosque 
could  never  be  duplicated." 

The  principal  object  in  life  among  these 
Egyptian  ancients  appears  to  have  been  the 
rearing  of  mosques  and  monuments  to  per- 
petuate their  memory  after  death,  and  a  real 
rivalry  existed  as  to  which  could  do  the  most 
original  and  unusual  thing. 

We  came  to  another — a  magnificent  mos- 
que which  crowns  a  height  overlooking  the 
entire  city,  and  built  of  solid  alabaster. 

"This,"  said  Mohammed,  "is  the  famous 


100  Journeying   Round    the    World 

mosque  built  by  Mohammed  Pasha,  the  first 
Khedive  who  ruled  over  Egypt." 

The  interior  is  grand  and  beautiful  be- 
yond description.  The  huge  dome-like  roof 
rises  over  an  unpillared  and  apparently 
unsupported  oval  auditorium  of  tremendous 
size  and  absolutely  devoid  of  any  furnish- 
ings save  the  rich,  crimson  Persian  velvet 
carpets  on  the  floor  and  the  splendid  chande- 
liers glittering  with  hundreds  of  prisms 
which  catch  and  reflect  the  light  of  row  upon 
row  of  great  electric  arc  lights  which  en- 
circle the  interior. 

Only  once  a  year,  when  the  present  Khe- 
dive comes  to  worship,  is  this  mosque  illumi- 
nated and  thrown  open  to  the  general  public 
— otherwise  you  must  visit  it  in  the  daytime 
and  let  your  imagination  supply  the  magni- 
ficent vision  of  lights  which  flood  the  whole 
with  a  brilliant  glory. 

In  a  room  at  one  side  is  the  splendid 
marble  sarcophagus  of  Mohammed  Pasha 
which  we  gaze  at  through  the  carved  aper- 
tures of  the  partition  which  separates  it  from 
the  main  rotunda  of  the  mosque. 

Egypt  is  the  land  of  the  fez.  All  the  men 
wear  the  red  fez  with  its  black  tassel,  and 
the    fierce    Cairo    sun    beats    upon    their 


Cairo,  Cii\)  of  Mosques  101 

swarthy  faces,  unprotected  by  hat  brim,  till 
you  wonder  how  they  endure  it.  Neverthe- 
less, they  look  picturesque  in  their  cardinal 
caps  and  full  Turkish  trousers. 


Passing  the  Pyramids. 

You  approach  the  Pyramids  from  Cairo 
by  trolley — which  sort  of  knocks  the  poetry 
out  of  the  proposition  at  the  first  stroke  and 
reduces  it  to  prose.  It  seems  almost  uncanny 
to  journey  to  these  ancient  piles  by  so 
modern  a  method  and  you  wonder,  rather 
uneasil}^,  what  the  Pharaohs  would  say. 

You  spin  along  for  seven  or  eight  miles 
through  an  avenue  luxuriantly  lined  with 
graceful  lubek  trees,  which  resemble  our 
American  locusts.  When  about  half  way  out 
you  catch  your  first  glimpse  of  the  grim, 
gaunt  monuments  rising  from  the  rim  of  the 
desert. 

Like  most  celebrated  objects,  the  pyra- 
mids are  disappointing  at  first  glance — per- 
haps because  you  expect  so  much — but  as 
you  draw  nearer  you  are  more  and  more  im- 
pressed with  their  magnitude,  and  in  the  end 
you  are  thoroughly  thrilled. 

The  moment  you  step  from  the  car  you 
are  surrounded  by  a  throng  of  dragomen 
and  donkey-boys,  all  clamoring  for  "back- 
sheesh" and  patronage.     Our  guide  vigor- 

102 


Passing  the  Pyramids  103 

ously  plied  his  stick  right  and  left,  as  if  he 
were  lighting  a  swarm  of  bees,  and  quickly 
negotiated  for  camels,  for  we  were  deter- 
mined to  do  the  proper  stunt  and  ride  the 
hurricane  deck  of  these  ships  of  the  desert. 

My  particular  beast  rejoiced  in  the  kingly 
name  of  Rameses  I.  He  had  a  three-cor- 
nered patch — exactly  the  shape  of  a  pyra- 
mid— on  the  tattered  and  seamy  skin  of  his 
long  neck.  However,  it  had  been  neatly 
darned  and  felled  down  so  it  did  not  inter- 
fere seriously  with  the  majestic  and  dignified 
apjjearance  of  Rameses.  I  observed  also 
that  he  had  that  same  half-querulous,  half- 
sardonic  smile  which  someone  has  mentioned 
as  invariably  curling  the  upper  lip  of  the 
camel — a  sort  of  scornful  cur\e  that  makes 
you  feel  as  if  he  were  laughing  at  you. 

"Is — is — he — gentle?"  I  cautiously  asked 
the  xVrab  in  charge. 

"Oh  yes,  ^ladame,  dis  dromedary,  he  be- 
long to  de  Sheik  of  de  pyramids"  was  the  re- 
assuring reply  as  he  made  a  hissing  sound  to 
indicate  to  Rameses  that  he  was  expected  to 
come  down  to  earth.  He  tapped  him  gently 
at  the  same  time  on  the  nose,  and  Rameses 
began  to  undouble. 

He  folded  up  like  a  patent  jackknife.  First 


104  Journeying   Round   the    World 

he  took  his  front  legs  down  in  sections, 
groaning  dismally  all  the  time,  and  then,  by 
a  series  of  gradual  evolutions,  his  forward 
mast,  so  to  speak,  came  within  hailing  dis- 
tance. After  that  he  arranged  his  rear  by 
a  similar  performance  till  his  whole  hurri- 
cane deck  was  within  climbing  reach. 

The  Arab  seized  me  about  the  waist  and 
gently  hoisted  me  to  Rameses'  hump.  With 
chattering  teeth,  and  chills  chasing  up  and 
down  my  spinal  column,  I  settled  myself  in 
the  saddle,  desperately  grasping  both  its 
horns  while  the  Arab  placed  my  foot  in  the 
stirrup. 

"Don't  let  him  get  up  yet"  I  begged  as  I 
breathed  a  prayer  to  Allah,  ''Hold  onto  him 
— I'm  not  ready." 

"Lean  forward"  was  the  stern  command, 
and  I  convulsively  clutched  Rameses' 
scarred  and  seamed  neck,  shut  my  eyes 
tight,  and  prepared  for  the  worst.  I  heard 
that  mysterious  hissing  sound,  and  simul- 
taneously I  began  to  rise  in  the  world.  I 
recollect  a  dim,  shuddering  sense  of  sweep- 
ing through  the  air  at  an  angle  of  forty-five 
degrees,  of  hearing  a  voice  say,  "Now  lean 
forward, ' '  of  being  tossed  higher  yet  and  in 
a  distinctly  opposite  direction  as  Rameses 


Passing  the  Pyramids  1 05 

unfolded  his  hind  legs  and  stood  upright.  I 
felt  myself  moving  through  space  with  a 
gentle,  rocking  motion,  and  when  I  had 
coui'age  to  open  my  eyes  I  beheld  below  me 
the  landscape  and  the  diminutive  figures  of 
iVi'abs  and  countless  donkey  boys  yelling  at 
and  pelting  Rameses  in  the  endeavor  to 
induce  him  to  move  faster,  but  he  continued 
to  plod  majestically  along  with  me  perched 
on  his  hump. 

The  other  members  of  my  party  had  suc- 
cessfully mounted  the  relatives  of  Rameses 
and  we  made  a  rather  imposing  procession 
as  we  swung  chaotically  past  the  pyramids 
and  out  beyond  the  sphinx. 

"What  happened  to  her  nose?"  asked 
Peggy,  indicating  the  olfactory  organ  of  this 
stone  lady  as  we  gazed  at  her  lofty  features. 

' '  Emporer  Napoleon,  he  knock  it  off, ' '  was 
the  solemn  response  of  the  dragoman.  "He 
very  bad  man.    He  use  mosques  for  stables. ' ' 

In  defense  of  this  libelous  slander  of  the 
great  French  general  it  is  but  justice  to  ob- 
serve that  the  elements  are  (juite  likely  re- 
sponsible for  the  snubbed  nose  of  the  sphinx, 
for  wind  and  weather  affect  first  the  most 
prominent  features  of  these   stone  monu- 


106  Journeying   Round    the    World 

ments.  The  various  interpretations  given 
by  different  dragomen  are  interesting  and 
diversifying. 


The  Port  of  Palestine. 

We  sailed  from  Port  Said  at  4  o'clock  one 
afternoon  across  a  corner  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  Jaffa — the  ancient  Joppa — which 
is  the  southern  port  of  Palestine,  arriving 
there  at  dawn  next  morning. 

Nowhere  in  all  our  travels,  did  we  meet 
with  such  a  public  reception  as  at  Jaffa.  It 
was  barely  sunrise  when  our  ship  dropped 
anchor  before  the  rocky  and  threatening  en- 
trance to  the  Holy  Land,  and  in  no  time  the 
decks  of  the  little  steamer  were  literally 
swarming  with  a  motley  multitude  of  Arabs, 
Syrians,  Philistines,  Turks,  Moabites,  Ju- 
deans.  Cook's  guides  and  every  Oriental 
nation,  all  jabbering  and  gesticulating  and 
crowding  about,  eager  to  secure  our  patron- 
age in  the  landing  boats. 

Many  of  the  passengers  were  not  yet  out 
of  their  cabins,  but  the  curious  collection  of 
yelling,  struggling  humanity  crowded  the 
passages  and  assembled  in  front  of  closed 
cabin  doors  ready  to  seize  the  victim  when 
he  should  appear.  They  persisted  in  their 
attentions,  and  although  we  told  them  in 

107 


108  Journeying   Round   the    World 

every  language  we  could  command,  and  also 
by  pantomime,  that  we  were  not  yet  ready  to 
go  ashore,  that  we  had  not  breakfasted,  that 
as  the  steamer  would  lie  there  all  day  and 
the  train  for  Jerusalem  did  not  leave  till 
afternoon  there  was  no  possi?)le  reason  for 
such  unseemly  haste — it  was  all  in  vain. 

They  talked  some  more,  and  then  they  ges- 
ticulated a  lot,  and  then,  when  we  remained 
obdurate,  they  sat  down  on  the  floor,  or 
leaned  against  the  deck  railing,  or  pasted 
themselves  against  the  walls— and  waited, 
persistently,  patiently,  and  steadfastly.  We 
ignored  their  very  presence — and  were  re- 
minded of  it  by  an  occasional  touch  on  the 
arm,  or  pull  of  the  dress  when  they  would 
point  insinuatingly  to  the  row  boats  lined  uj) 
against  the  steamer's  side. 

We  had  read  and  heard  of  the  perils  of 
landing  at  Jaffa  before  we  left  home.  We 
had  been  told  about  the  swaying  rope  ladders 
down  which  we  would  have  to  descend  from 
the  steamer  to  the  rocking  egg-shells  below 
manned  by  brawny  Arabs.  We  had  been  in- 
formed about  the  old  lady  who  had  died  from 
seasickness  while  the  steamer  tossed  there 
for  three  days  waiting  for  the  waves  to  still 


The  Port  of  Palestine  1 09 

sufficiently  to  permit  passengers  to  embark 
in  the  landing  boats. 

Therefore  we  were  prepared  for  the  worst. 
I  had  left  my  precious  aluminum  typewriter 
safely  stored  in  the  custom  house  at  Port 
Said,  fearing  the  effects  of  a  salt  water  bath 
on  its  mechanism.  We  had  arrayed  our- 
selves in  rain  coats,  and  we  wore  rubbers. 

It  happened  however,  that  we  were  like 
a  very  small  man  with  a  very  large  breath 
trying  to  blow  out  a  candle  that  wasn't 
lisrhted — for  we  met  with  no  adventures.  We 
riuietly  walked  down  the  steamer  stairs, 
stepped  into  a  big  rowboat,  and  were 
swiftly  pulled  ashore  over  a  sea  so  smooth 
that  scarcely  a  ripple  wrinkled  its  surface. 
Nothing  more  thrilling  happened  than  the 
dropping  overboard  of  Peggy's  parasol, 
which  slipped  out  of  her  hand, 

Nevertheless,  from  the  well  authenticated 
tales  of  other  travelers,  T  have  reason  to  be- 
lieve that  we  were  especially  favored  by 
Providence.  The  big,  grim,  seaweed-covered 
rocks  which  rise  menacingly  from  the  water, 
giving  but  a  single  narrow  gateway  for  the 
boats  to  pass  through,  indicate  how  perilous 
the  passage  would  be  in  rough  weather. 
Speaking  from  the  standpoint  of  an  Amer- 


1  10  Journeying   Round    the    World 

ican,  I  wonder  why  the  government  over 
there  does  not  put  down  some  dynamite  and 
blow  up  those  rocks  and  thus  form  a  safe 
harbor. 

Jaffa  is  picturesquely  situated  on  ground 
that  rises  abruptly  from  the  shore  and  over- 
looks the  sparkling  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean. It  is  full  of  Bible  associations — as 
are  all  places  in  Palestine.  The  best  possible 
guide  to  the  Holy  Land  is  your  Bible.  If 
you  do  not  know  it  well,  you  miss  the  sacred 
sentiment  of  the  journey  as  well  as  its  au- 
thoritative history.  It  is  here  at  Jaffa  you 
recall  that  a  thousand  years  before  the  birth 
of  Christ,  Hiram,  King  of  Tyre,  shipped  to 
this  ancient  port  of  Joppa  the  cedar  wood 
from  Lebanon  to  build  Solomon's  temple  at 
Jerusalem.  You  stand  upon  the  flat  roof  of 
the  house  located  on  the  spot  where  Simon 
the  tanner  lived  when  Peter  had  his  famous 
vision;  3"ou  visit  the  tomb  of  Dorcas  en- 
circled by  orange  orchards. 

The  train  from  Jaffa  to  Jerusalem  runs 
at  a  speed  of  a  mile  every  five  minutes  so  you 
have  ample  time  to  view  the  scenery.  You 
cross  the  plain  of  Sharon,  its  fields  gay  with 
wild  flowers,  and  you  recall  that  it  was  in 
this  valley  that  the  flower  of  chivalry,  the 


The  Port  of  Palestine  1 1  1 

gallant  Crusaders,  fought.  Yonder,  your 
guide  points  out  Tinmath,  where  Samson  set 
tire  to  the  Philistines'  corn,  and  a  little 
farther  on  is  the  cave  where  he  hid  after  De- 
lilah the  first  woman  barber  that  histor}^  re- 
cords— cut  his  hair. 

Passing  the  fertile  plains,  the  train  climbs 
higher  into  the  heart  of  the  hills,  winding- 
through  picturesque  gorges  and  crossing 
the  boundaries  of  the  land  of  the  Philistines 
into  Judea.  You  note  the  stony  character 
of  the  soil.  Such  a  crop  of  rocks  and  stones 
you  never  beheld.  The  whole  landscape  for 
miles  and  miles,  looks  like  the  rocky  bed  of 
a  river  with  no  sign  of  vegetation  anywhere, 
save  here  and  there  a  little  patch  of  soil 
where  grain  is  growing.  In  the  country  all 
roundabout  Jerusalem  you  observe  this  and 
you  understand  how  apt  was  the  illustration 
of  the  Great  Teacher  when  He  spoke  of  seed 
falling  among  stones  and  withering  away. 
Indeed,  as  you  travel  through  Palestine  you 
are  more  and  more  impressed  with  the  sim- 
])licity  of  His  teachings,  and  realize  liow  He 
drew  His  most  powerful  paral)les  and  illus- 
trations from  the  familiar  scenes  wliich  His 
disci]>les  beheld  every  day.  There  are  more 
blind  people  in  Jerusalem  than  in  any  other 


1  12  Journeying  Round   the    World 

place  I  have  seen  and  the  miracle  of  healing 
this  affliction  was  therefore  only  another  in- 
stance of  the  practical  teachings  of  the 
Savior  of  mankind.  The  glaring  light  fall- 
ing on  the  barren  ground  and  stony  soil  of 
rock  and  limestone,  the  constant  clouds  of 
dust  filling  the  air,  and  the  crowded  and 
filthy  conditions  of  living  all  tend  toward 
eye  disease. 

On  our  way  up  the  steep  hills  just  outside 
the  walls  of  Jerusalem  are  fields  of  thistles, 
and  not  far  away,  orchards  of  fig  trees. 
How  very  natural  for  Jesus,  as  He  walked 
that  way  with  His  disciples,  to  comment  on 
the  fact — ''Can  men  grow  figs  of  thistles'?" 
and  also  to  call  attention  to  the  barren  fig 
trees  about. 

In  the  walls  round  about  Jerusalem  are 
numerous  narrow  doors  known  as  the 
"needle's  eye"  where,  in  ancient  times  of- 
ficials were  admitted  at  night  after  the  gates 
were  closed.  You  at  once  see  how  hard  it 
would  be  for  a  camel  to  enter  one  of  these 
gates — though  not  wholly  impossible,  if  he 
meet  two  conditions — he  must  drop  his  load 
and  bend  the  knees  in  order  to  enter  in.  You 
at  once  see  the  parallel  of  conditions  laid  by 


The  Port  of  Palestine  1  1  3 

Christ  upon  the  entrance  to  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven. 

You  find  a  new  and  modern  Jerusalem 
built  up  outside  the  walls  of  the  ancient  city 
and  you  are  perhaps  surprised  to  find  here 
the  most  comfortable  and  home-like  hotel 
acconmiodations  you  have  struck  since  leav- 
ing America.  A  German  and  his  half  dozen 
strong  sons  and  daughters  have  kept  this 
hostelry  for  years.  The  American  Consul 
sits  at  a  table  near  your  own  and  you  find 
tlie  hotel  thronged  with  American  tourists. 
The  fare  is  excellent  and  the  price  moderate. 

Nearly  all  the  sacred  spots  connected  with 
the  bu'th,  life  and  death  of  our  Savior  are 
covered  with  memorial  churches.  The  sup- 
posed site  of  Calvary  (which,  by  the  way,  is 
a  disputed  point,  many  Biblical  scholars  be- 
lieving that  the  Gordon  Tomb  and  Golgotha 
hill  near  by  is  the  actual  spot  where  Chirst 
was  crucified  and  buried,  and  which  was  dis- 
covered a  few  years  ago  by  General  Gordon) 
and  the  tomb  are  within  the  walls  of  the 
Church  of  the  Holy  Sepulchre,  which  ])elongs 
to  various  sects — Mohammedans,  Armen- 
ians and  Roman  Catholics — each  of  which 
has  its  particular  spot  in  which  to  worship 
and  so  antagonistic  is  the  ecclesiastical  feel- 


1  1 4  Journeying   Round    the    World 

ing  that  armed  guards  are  stationed  here 
and  there,  notably  in  the  church  at  Bethle- 
hem which  marks  the  spot  where  Christ  was 
born. 

Every  doorway  in  the  Church  of  the  Holy 
Sepulchre,  leading  to  a  sacred  site,  is  cut  so 
low  in  the  stone  wall  that  everyone,  be  he 
Jew,  Gentile,  Christian  or  heretic,  is  forced 
to  bend  the  knee  and  bow  the  head  in  order 
to  enter.  You  climb  the  steep  stone  steps  to 
the  site  of  Calvary,  above  which  is  suspended 
a  life-sized  painting  of  Christ  on  the  cross. 
You  put  your  eye  to  a  small  aperture  and 
see,  through  a  glass,  a  bit  of  granite  which 
you  are  told  is  the  top  of  Calvary. 

You  bow  your  head  and  bend  your  knee  to 
enter  the  enclosure  of  His  tomb,  covered 
with  alabaster,  where  you  find  devout  pil- 
grims kneeling  and  pressing  their  lips  to  the 
anointing  stone  which  symbolizes  the  spot 
where  His  body  was  anointed  for  burial. 

Without  the  church,  in  the  square,  open 
court,  squatted  on  the  stone  floor,  are  bead- 
sellers,  with  candles  and  rosaries,  and 
natives  sit  smoking  their  curious  pipes — 
' '  nargillas, ' '  they  are  called — the  pipe  being 
connected  by  a  long  rubber  tube  with  a  long- 
necked  bottle  half  filled  with  water.     The 


The  Port  of  Palestine  1  I  5 

nicotine  passes  through  the  water  which 
renders  it  less  harmful,  our  guide  explained. 
The  picturesque  smokers  sit,  Turk  fashion, 
drawing  tranquilly  on  these  curious  pipes 
and  watching  the  water  bubble  in  the  bottle 
into  which,  with  a  cm'ious  artistic  sense, 
they  have  placed  a  few^  flowers — carnations 
or  roses. 

The  most  superb  view  of  Jerusalem  is 
from  the  Mount  of  Olives,  whither  we  went 
one  afternoon  by  donkey  back,  going  outside 
the  city  walls  and  climbing  by  a  circuitous 
I'oute  to  the  heights  of  Olivet,  from  the  other 
side  of  which  burst  upon  our  vision  a  view 
extending  over  miles  and  miles  of  Palestine 
and  inchiding  the  Dead  Sea  and  the  River 
Joi'dan — more  than  twenty  miles  away — and 
the  ^foabite  mountains  beyond  in  all  their 
lovely  blue  lights  and  shadows.  Turning 
toward  the  city  you  behold  Jerusalem,  and 
like  a  flash  there  comes  to  your  mind  Christ's 
words  of  sorrow  as  He  gazed  over  the  ])roud, 
))eautiful  city  and  said:  "Oh,  Jerusalem. 
J(^i'usalem,  how  often  would  T  have  gathered 
thy  children  together,  as  a  hen  doth  gather 
her  bi-ood  under  her  wings,  and  ve  would 
not." 

Going  down  from  Olivet,  you  may  retu7*n 


1  1 6  Journeying   Round    the    World 

to  Jerusalem  by  way  of  the  Garden  of  Geth- 
semane  and  thence  climb  the  steep  hill  to  the 
Jews'  Wailing  Place  where  every  Friday 
afternoon  Jews  and  Rabbis  congregate  to 
wail  over  the  loss  of  Jerusalem.  It  is  a  pa- 
thetic scene — the  mournful  cries  of  old  men, 
middle-aged  men,  and  even  little  boys 
brought  there  by  their  fathers  to  take  part 
in  the  dismal  ceremony,  wailing  and  knock- 
ing their  heads  against  the  wall  as  they  pray 
for  the  restoration  of  Jerusalem. 

A  writer  in  the  Travel  Handbook  says: 
**  People  talk  of  the  noise,  dirt,  and  squalor 
of  Jerusalem,  and  it  may  be  true  enough  as 
applied  to  the  lanes  and  bazaars  of  the  Mos- 
lem quarter,  which  are  as  filthy  and  malo- 
dorous as  those  of  Tangier  or  Constantin- 
ople. But  there  are  parts  of  it  which  sug- 
gest the  purlieus  of  an  old  cathedral  or  uni- 
versity town.  Cool,  paved  lanes,  running 
past  quiet  convent  gardens,  a  yellow  wait, 
with  its  crumbling  tower  and  over- branching 
palm,  silhouetted  against  the  intense  blue  of 
the  sky,  stretches  of  lonely  waste,  overgrown 
cactus  and  prickly  pear,  and  surrounded  by 
high-walled  buildings  with  quaint,  fretted 
wooden  lattices,  glimpses  of  cloisters  with 
faded  Byzantine  pictures  on  the  walls, — all 


The  Port  of  Palestine  1  1  7 

these  details  go  to  make  up  the  wistful 
charm  which,  scarcely  felt  perhaps  at  first, 
grows  on  one  more  and  more  as  one  surren- 
ders to  its  influence." 

The  most  beautiful  building  in  all  Jerusa- 
lem is  the  Mosque  of  Omar  with  its  dome  of 
exquisite  blue  tiles,  where  you  will  be 
escorted  by  a  representative  of  your  own 
government  and  a  Turkish  officer. 


Jerusalem  to  Jericho. 

If  you  do  not  believe  that  Jericho  is  a  hard 
road  to  travel,  just  you  try  it — as  we  did,  on 
a  day  when  the  thermometer  at  Jericho 
registered  124  degrees  in  the  shade  —  and 
there  wasn't  much  shade  either,  except  un- 
der the  boughs  of  the  great  oleander  tree 
that  grows  in  the  courtyard  of  the  hotel. 

The  whole  twenty  miles  from  Jerusalem 
to  Jericho  lies  over  the  stoniest,  rockiest 
road  imaginable,  much  of  it  cut  through 
solid  limestone.  It  winds  over  steep  hills 
and  down  declivities  into  deep  valleys  that 
intervene  in  the  wilderness  between  the  two 
cities.  You  make  a  drop  of  half  a  mile  all 
told  before  you  reach  the  shore  of  the  Dead 
Sea — that  stagnant  body  of  bitter  water  that 
lies  in  the  lowest  rift  of  the  earth's  crust 
lighted  by  the  sun.  Its  waters  are  so  im- 
pregnated with  salt  that  if  you  evaporate 
four  bottles  of  it  you  will  get  one  bottle  of 
salt.  Under  the  rays  of  the  hot  Assyrian  sun 
it  is  estimated  that  10,000,000  tons  of  Avater 
go  up  by  evaporation  every  twenty-four 
hours. 

118 


Jerusalem   to  Jericho  1  19 

The  morning  sun  was  just  touching  the 
towers  and  domes  of  Jerusalem  as  our  car- 
riage, drawn  by  three  horses,  drove  away 
from  the  hotel  and  skii'ted  the  walls  of  the 
city,  turning  oft'  near  the  Tomb  of  Absalom 
and  so  across  the  slope  of  Mount  Olivet  to 
Bethany  where  our  guide  pointed  out  the 
site  of  the  home  of  Mary  and  Martha  and 
Lazarus.  We  corkscrewed  down  the  steep 
descent  past  the  Apostles'  Spring,  so  named 
because  it  is  the  spot  where  Jesus  and  His 
apostles  used  to  stop  on  the  wear}^  jom'ney 
from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho — the  last  spring 
of  pure  water  in  the  wilderness  that 
stretches  between. 

The  trip  to  Jericho  occupies  five  hours, 
and  although  somewhat  tedious,  is  full  of 
keenest  interest.  Here  and  there,  hidden 
away  in  the  cleft  of  the  hills,  or  in  the  deep 
canyons  that  gash  the  wilderness,  are  lonely 
monasteries,  their  dome-like  towers  rising 
like  solitary  temples  in  the  waste  of  solitude. 
The  wayside  inn,  on  the  site  where  the  Good 
Samaritan  rescued  "that  certain  man  who 
went  down  from  Jerusalem  to  Jericho  and 
fell  among  thieves"  is  the  half-way  resting 
place  for  modern  pilgrims  crossing  the 
wilderness. 


1 20  Journeying   Round   the    World 

You  meet  bands  of  Russian  pilgrims  going 
up  to  Jerusalem — men,  women  and  children 
— riding  donkeys  and  on  foot,  and  you  pass 
groups  of  armed  Arabs  and  Bedouins  driving 
herds  of  camels  or  donkeys.  Occasionally 
you  come  to  a  small  oasis  in  the  desert  of  the 
wilderness,  where  a  typical  Bible  harvest 
scene  is  spread  before  your  eyes — men  and 
women  cutting  the  grain  with  sickles  and 
binding  it  into  sheaves. 

The  road  at  last  plunges  precipitously 
down  a  steep  incline  into  Jericho  and  your 
carriage  rolls  over  a  modern  cement  bridge 
crossing  the  bed  of  a  stream.  You  are  glad 
to  stop  for  rest  and  refreshment  at  a  Jericho 
hotel  before  pressing  on  to  the  Dead  Sea  and 
River  Jordan  some  six  miles  farther.  You 
are  taken  to  that  spot  on  the  banks  of  the 
Jordan  where  Jesus  was  baptized  by  John 
and  you  go  to  the  site  of  the  ancient  city  of 
Jericho,  a  couple  of  miles  or  so  beyond  the 
modern  city,  and  see  fragments  of  the  walls 
around  which  Joshua  and  his  hosts  marched. 

We  spent  the  night  in  Jericho — a  prac- 
tically sleepless  one  on  account  of  the  great 
heat  and  a  high  wind  which  arose  about  mid- 
night and  blew  with  great  violence.  We 
arose  at  two  a.  m.,  breakfasted,  and  started 


Jerusalem   to  Jericho  121 

on  the  return  trip  to  Jerusalem  at  three 
o'clock  in  order  to  accomplish  the  hardest 
part  of  the  journey  before  the  sun  rose. 

One  afternoon  we  drove  from  Jerusalem 
to  Bethlehem — about  an  hour's  ride — pass- 
ing the  site  of  the  tomb  of  Rachel  where 
"she  was  buried  in  the  way  to  Ephrath, 
which  is  Bethlehem."  It  is  said  that  there 
is  no  doubt  whatever  that  this  site,  which  is 
revered  by  Christians  and  Moslems,  as  well 
as  by  Jews,  is  the  scene  of  the  touching  death 
of  Rachel.  We  remember  too,  that  it  was 
in  the  surrounding  fields  that  Ruth  gleaned 
after  the  reapers,  and  it  was  through  them 
that  the  sorrow-stricken  Naomi  returned.  It 
was  upon  one  of  these  hills  that  David  kept 
his  father's  sheep,  and  it  was  among  the 
glens  and  valleys  that  first  rang  out  those 
glorious  Psalms  which  have  echoed  down 
through  the  centuries.  It  was  here,  on  these 
hills,  that  the  shepherds,  while  watching 
their  flocks  by  night,  received  the  "tidings 
of  great  joy,"  and  it  was  here  that  took 
place  the  supreme  event  which  made  Beth- 
lehem a  household  word.  It  may  be  that 
over  this  same  road  you  are  traveling,  the 
three  wise  men  journeyed,  following  the 
star  in  the  east  that  should  show  the  birth- 
place of  the  Savior  of  the  world. 


122  Journeying  Round   the    World 

The  site  of  the  inn  and  the  cave  where 
Christ  was  born  is  covered  by  the  Church  of 
the  Nativity.  We  were  given  lighted  tapers 
and  conducted  down  the  stone  steps  leading 
to  the  Chapel  of  the  Nativity.  A  silver  star 
marks  the  spot  where  the  Savior  was  born, 
above  which  sixteen  silver  lamps  are  per- 
petually burning.  A  little  beyond,  and  at 
one  side,  is  the  supposed  site  of  the  manger 
where  He  was  laid.  You  find  armed  soldiers 
constantly  on  guard  to  prevent  open  war- 
fare between  different  religious  factions.  A 
service  was  going  on  in  the  church  when  we 
were  there  and  a  procession  of  singers 
entered  the  chapel,  kneeling  and  burning  in- 
cense before  the  sacred  shrines. 


Europe,  the  "World's  Playground 

Back  to  Port  Said  from  Palestine  and  a 
swift  three-day  trip  across  the  Mediter- 
ranean to  Brindisi  in  the  heel  of  Italy's  boot 
brought  us  into  Europe. 

"No  wonder  St.  Paul  sent  for  his  over- 
coat," observed  Peggy,  as  she  shivered  and 
snuggled  into  her  steamer  rug  as  we  swept 
past  the  Island  of  Crete  in  a  stiff  gale  that 
churned  the  blue  waters  of  the  Mediter- 
ranean into  a  rolling  sea.  We  were  on  board 
the  fast  mail  ship  "Osiris,"  and  she  sped 
over  the  waves  like  a  great  white  bird. 

It  is  a  full  day's  ride  by  rail  from  Brindisi 
to  Naples  and  the  road  follows  the  line  of  the 
ancient  Appian  Way  over  which  Horace  fol- 
lowed in  the  famous  journey  so  graphically 
described  in  one  of  his  satires.  In  those  days 
Brindisi  was  an  important  place,  for  it  was 
the  Boman  point  of  departure  for  Greece 
and  the  Far  East. 

After  the  stony,  bare  and  treeless  plains 
of  Palestine,  the  fertile  fields  and  vineyards, 
the  orchards  and  gardens  of  sunny  Italy 

123 


124  Journeying   Round    the    World 

seemed  like  a  modern  Eden.  Wild  poppies 
stained  the  meadows  blood-red.  Lilacs, 
Cherokee  roses  and  lovely  wild  flowers  car- 
peted the  landscape  and  it  was  literally  fres- 
coed with  grape  vines  festooned  from  tree  to 
tree.  Every  foot  of  land  is  intensively  cul- 
tivated. Vineyards  and  olive  orchards  climb 
precipitous  hillsides,  reach  down  into  can- 
yons and  stretch  over  miles  and  miles  of  level 
land.  You  see  orange  orchards  with  grape 
vines  trellised  from  tree  to  tree,  and  pota- 
toes, corn  and  beans — regular  succotash 
gardens — growing  between. 

The  railway  has  a  splendid  roadbed,  and 
the  express  train  keeps  up  a  rattling  rate  of 
speed,  darting  through  tunnels  as  you  near 
Naples  and  coming  out  to  lovelier  vistas  and 
more  charming  views  each  time.  The  chief 
glory  of  Naples  is  its  bay  which  dents  the 
Italian  shore  in  a  deep  horseshoe  with  lovely 
Sorrento  perched  on  the  steep  cliffs  at  one 
end  of  the  curve,  and  the  Island  of  Capri 
and  its  famous  Blue  Grotto  lying  just  with- 
in the  outstretched  arms  of  land.  You  visit 
Pompeii — that  wonderful  dead  city  which 
has  been  designated  as  the  most  amazino: 
spectacle  in  all  Italy.  As  we  wandered 
through  the  silent  streets  between  stark, 


Europe,  World's  Playground  125 

staring  walls  on  a  bright  June  day,  one  could 
never  dream  that  the  fau'  Vesuvius  looming 
against  the  blue  sky  with  never  a  cloud  or 
vapor  veiling  its  face  smiling  in  the  summer 
sun  could  belch  forth  such  fire  and  flood  of 
lava  streams  and  work  such  awful  destruc- 
tion. 

In  Rome  you  are  simply  saturated  with 
museums  and  mosaics,  pictures  and  paint- 
ings, churches,  cathedrals,  cloisters  and  cata- 
combs, frescoes  and  facades  and  friezes, 
shrines,  basilicas  and  tombs — in  short  with 
the  art,  antiquity  and  architecture  of  this 
fascinating  city.  You  get  to  feeling  posi- 
tively moldy,  and  musty,  and  cobwebby,  for 
most  things  date  from  the  fifteenth  century 
and  run  back  from  that  to  the  days  of  Nero. 

You  can  go  to  a  different  church  in  Rome 
every  one  of  the  365  days  in  a  year,  and  then 
there  will  be  fifteen  that  you  have  not  seen. 
Of  these  380  churches,  all  but  five  are  Roman 
Catholic.  Just  the  fountains  of  Rome  are 
worthy  of  a  chapter  to  themselves.  Tliey 
play  on  every  square  and  corner.  All  Rome 
is  not  an  antique  ruin  however.  Not  far 
from  a  fragment  of  the  wall  built  by  ^farcus 
Aurelius  in  the  year  70  A.  T).  is  the  most 
modern  and  down-to-date  tiled  street  tunnel. 


126  Journeying   Round    the    World 

through  which  double-decked  trolley  cars 
spin  beneath  its  vaulted  ceiling  set  solidly 
with  white  porcelain  tiles. 

Florence,  sitting  like  a  fair  queen  on  the 
banks  of  the  Arno,  with  picturesque  hills  ris- 
ing on  all  sides,  is  truly  the  Flower  City  of 
Italy.  She  holds  you  captive  by  her  many- 
sided  charms — her  wealth  of  literary  associa- 
tions, her  great  art  galleries,  her  fascinating 
gardens  and  delightful  villas. 

Venice,  with  its  wonderful  sea  lanes,  its 
gondolas  gliding  like  great  black  swans  un- 
der the  picturesque  bridges;  its  palaces  of 
curious  architecture;  its  festa  days  and  gala 
nights,  is  the  dream  city  of  all  Europe. 

Milan,  with  its  marvelous  cathedrals  and 
its  famous  fresco  of  The  Last  Supper,  lies  in 
3^our  pathway  from  Venice  to  the  Italian 
lakes  which  lie  like  scattered  turquoises 
among  the  enchanting  mountains  of  North- 
ern Ital,y,  and  through  them  is  the  gateway 
into  Switzerland — the  Garden  of  the  gods. 

When  you  visit  Lucerne  do  not  fail  to  go  to 
the  cathedral  and  hear  the  great  organ 
played  by  a  musician  who  is  the  greatest 
genius  of  his  kind.  Every  afternoon  at  six 
o'clock  an  organ  recital  is  given,  and  every 
tourist  in  Lucerne  makes  it  a  point  to  attend 


Europe,  World's  Playground  127 

at  least  ouce  and  always  to  reiiiaiii  quite  to 
the  end  of  the  hour  allotted,  for  the  final 
number  is  "The  Storm."  By  the  wonderful 
harmonies  you  are  literally  cai'iied  on  its 
wings.  First  the  birds  carol,  then  the  wind 
rises,  gradually  growing  into  a  tempest  that 
slu'ieks  and  howls  and  whistles  till  you  posi- 
tivel}'  shiver  in  your  pew.  Then  the  rain  be- 
gins to  fall,  first  a  gentle  patter,  which  in- 
creases to  a  perfect  deluge  and  beats 
against  the  windows  and  pounds  the  roof. 
The  thunder  mutters  and  grows  louder  till 
it  comes,  crash  after  crash  in  deafening 
tones,  and  the  quick,  staccato  flashes  of  light- 
ning play  ])etween  the  peals.  Bye  and  bye 
tlie  storm  begins  to  die  away,  the  rain  grad- 
ually ceases,  the  rolls  of  thunder  become  less 
frequent,  the  wind  sobs  itself  to  sleej),  the 
l)ir(ls  connnence  to  chirp,  and  then  to  softly 
sing — and  you  awake  from  your  musical 
trance  to  wonder  at  the  genius  which  in- 
voked this  mystic  melody  from  the  keys  of 
an  organ. 

Probably  the  aero])lane  will  eventually 
sohe  the  problem  of  scaling  the  Alps,  but  in 
the  meantime  aerial  navigators  have  not 
))een  asleej),  and  the  latest  device  to  date  is 
that  of  swinging  a  huge  l)asket  that  holds 


128  Journeying   Round   the    World 

twenty  people  over  the  Grindelwald  glacier, 
on  a  wire  suspended  from  the  Wetterhorn. 

From  rolling  in  a  'riksha  in  Japan,  teeter- 
ing in  a  sedan  chair  in  Hong  Kong,  swaying 
on  the  back  of  a  camel  in  Cairo,  jolting 
donkey-back  through  the  stony  streets  of 
Jerusalem,  clunbing  the  Alps  by  tram,  by 
funicular,  by  cog-wheel,  by  rack-and-pinion 
railways,  or  floating  in  a  gondola  through 
the  water-ways  of  Venice,  this  swinging  out 
into  space  in  a  basket  suspended  on  a  wire 
cobweb  rather  beats  them  all  for  thrills. 

In  Switzerland,  mountain  railwa.ys  liter- 
ally gridiron  the  Alps.  At  night,  from  Lu- 
cerne, from  Interlaken,  or  from  any  one  of 
the  dozens  of  resorts  on  these  lovely  Swiss 
lakes,  you  can  sec  twinkling  from  the 
heights  of  the  mountains  around  the  lights 
of  scores  of  hotels,  topping  some  of  the  lofti- 
est peaks. 

The  Swiss  railways  issue  tickets  good  for 
fifteen  or  thirty  days  at  greatly  reduced 
rates,  whereby  the  purchaser  may  travel 
continuously  over  any  line  of  railway  or 
steamers  during  that  period.  One  may  lit- 
erally live  en  route  if  he  chooses,  for  there 
is  no  limit  to  the  number  of  trips.  The  pho- 
tograph of  the  purchaser  is  pasted  inside  the 


Europe,  World's  Pla]fground  129 

book-ticket  as  a  means  of  identification,  and 
the  conductor  or  captain  merely  glances  at 
it  to  make  sure  that  the  proper  person  is 
traveling  on  it. 

"This  ticket  cost  me  just  nine  dollars  in 
our  money,"  I  heard  an  American  remark 
on  a  steamer  on  Lake  Brienz.  "My  wife 
has  one  like  it  and  for  fifteen  days  we  have 
been  traveling  all  over  Switzerland." 

The  Swiss  people  understand  how  to  make 
tlieir  scenic  attractions  pay.  Every  gorge 
and  waterfall  has  its  price.  It  costs  you  half 
a  franc  to  see  the  Trummelbach  Falls  at 
Lauterbrunnen,  and  a  similar  admission  fee 
to  gaze  on  the  glories  of  the  Gorge  of  the 
Lutschine  at  Grindelwald.  Our  American 
Consul  stated  in  a  speech  delivered  at  a  ban- 
quet in  Lucerne  while  we  were  there,  that 
tlio  greatest  imports  in  Switzerland  are 
Americans  with  their  pockets  full  of  money, 
and  the  greatest  exports  from  the  republic 
are  these  same  Americans  with  empty 
purses. 

However,  Americans  are  glad  to  pay  the 
])j-ice,  for  it  is  well  worth  while  to  look  upon 
these  stu})endous  glories  of  nature.  We 
entered  Switzerland  by  way  of  the  Italian 
Lakes,  coming  from  Lake  (N)mo  across  to 


130  Journeying  Round   the    World 

Lake  Lugano  on  a  funny  little  tram  whose 
engine  puffed  and  panted  over  the  steep 
road  that  wound  in  and  out  among  the  moun- 
tains, giving  us  glimpses  of  the  most  charm- 
ing views.  At  Lugano  we  boarded  the 
through  express  train  for  Lucerne,  via  the 
St.  Gothard  tunnel  nine  miles  long,  which 
we  entered  in  sunshine  and  made  our  exit 
at  the  other  end  in  a  pouring  rain — a  condi- 
tion which  the  Swiss  people  told  me  always 
prevails — if  the  rain  falls  on  one  side  of  the 
tunnel,  the  sun  is  pretty  sure  to  be  shining 
on  the  other  side. 

One  is  constantly  tempted  to  deal  in  super- 
latives in  speaking  of  the  scenery  along 
these  picturesque  routes  through  the  heart 
of  the  Alps,  or  in  crossing  the  Appennines 
from  Florence  to  Venice  where  the  railway 
passes  through  half  a  hundred  tunnels  in  un- 
interrupted succession  from  the  valley  of  the 
Arno  to  the  fertile  Tuscany  plains.  You 
swing  from  galleries,  viaducts  and  bridges, 
and  skirt  embankments  and  precipices  con- 
tinually. The  railways  of  Italy  and  Switzer- 
land have  a  habit  of  burrowing  underground, 
even  when  not  piercing  mountains,  you  will 
notice.  The  railway  which  enters  Lucerne 
passes  almost  completely  under  the  city  and 


Europe,  World's  Playground  1  3 1 

around  the  head  of  the  lake  coming  up  to 
the  surface  on  the  other  side.  This  is  done 
to  preserve  the  lovely  lake  front  with  its 
(juay  and  wide  promenade  overhung  with 
great  horse  chestnut  trees.  Here  is  a  hint 
for  American  cities,  many  of  which  are  made 
smoky  and  ugly  by  a  network  of  railroad 
tracks  across  what  might  otherwise  be  a 
beauty  spot.  In  foreign  cities  where  natural 
beauty  is  appreciated,  the  railroads  have 
the  subway  habit. 

^ATien  you  visit  Germany  do  not  pass  by 
Oberammergau,  whether  it  be  the  year  of 
the  great  Passion  Play  or  not.  Every  sum- 
mer these  wonderful  peasant  artists  enact 
some  sort  of  religious  play,  and  the  associa- 
tions and  placid  beauty  of  this  village  hidden 
away  in  the  Bavarian  Alps  is  well  worth  a 
visit.  You  will  want  to  drive  out  to  the 
castle  at  Linderhof  where  lived  the  mad 
King  Ludwig,  whose  strange,  sad  history  is 
so  interwoven  with  these  peasant  people  who 
idolized  him. 

Nuremberg  will  fascinate  you  with  its  de- 
lightful, many-windowed  roofs,  its  beautiful 
bridges,  and  fountains,  and  picturesque 
towers.  Be  sure  and  patronize  the  famous 
Bratwurst  Glocklein  and  eat  weiners  hot 


132  Journeying   Round    the    World 

from  the  coals  and  real  German  sauer  kraut, 
and  imagine  that  Durer,  and  Visscher  and 
their  artist  confreres  of  centuries  ago  whose 
portraits  smile  down  upon  you,  are  sitting 
there  beside  you  at  the  queer  little  tables, 
as  they  did  in  the  long  ago. 

After  you  have  traversed  the  length  and 
breadth  of  Germany,  have  sailed  down  the 
castled  Rhine  and  wandered  through  Hol- 
land and  Belgium  and  through  France  and 
into  gay  Paris  and  have  visited  all  the  other 
European  places  your  itinerary  calls  for, 
and  you  at  length  land  on  English  soil,  I 
venture  to  sa.v  that  never  in  all  the  world  be- 
fore has  the  mother  tongue  sounded  so  good 
to  your  American  ears,  in  place  of  all  this 
foreign  chatter.  It  will  seem  good — un- 
speakably good — to  be  able  to  make  your- 
self at  once  understood  when  you  give  di- 
rections about  your  baggage  without  the  ef- 
fort of  gesticulation,  pantomime  perform- 
ances and  grappling  with  French,  German, 
Italian  and  other  unknown  languages. 

My  first  impression  of  London  as  the  train 
from  Dover  entered  the  suburbs  was 
— chimneys.  They  seemed  to  protrude 
everywhere.  Every  house  in  London,  large 
or  small,  has  at  least  half  a  dozen  chimneys 


Europe,  World's  Playground  133 

— tile-like  affairs  set  in  rows  along  the  big, 
brick  chimney  that  dominates  the  roof. 

I  met  an  English  woman  in  Paris  who  was 
kind  enough  to  coach  me  a  little  in  regard  to 
her  native  city. 

''You'll  have  no  difficulty  in  getting  about 
in  London"  she  assured  me,  "just  ask  the 
policemen.  They  alwaj's  know  everything 
and  vou'll  find  them  verv  obliging  and  po- 
lite.'' 

She  was  quite  right.  The  London  police- 
man may  not  always  be  a  scholar  in  the 
broad  sense  of  the  word,  but  he  is  invariably 
a  gentleman,  and  his  knowledge  concerning 
tlie  greatest  city  on  earth  is  practically 
limitless.  You  usually  find  him  standing  on 
the  stone  oasis  in  the  middle  of  the  street 
crossing.  He  is  a  perfect  autocrat  when  it 
comes  to  controlling  street  traffic.  His  up- 
lifted hand  has  power  to  bring  to  an  abrupt 
halt  an  omnibus,  a  carriage,  an  automobile, 
a  tram  car,  a  pedestrian,  an  alderman,  the 
Lord-Mayor,  or  the  King's  guard  itself. 
There  are  only  about  20,000  of  these  guard- 
ians of  the  public  peace  in  London,  and  they 
manage  to  keep  its  7,500,000  inhabitants  in 
a  tolerable  state  of  safety.    They  guard  a 


1 34  Journeying   Round   the    World 

territory  of  some  seven  hundred  square 
miles. 

It's  rather  appalling  when  you  start  out 
on  your  first  tour  of  London  to  be  told  by 
your  guide  that  it  covers  twent}^  miles  from 
north  to  south,  and  seventeen  miles  from 
east  to  west,  and  that  there  is  not  a  person 
living  who  can  say  that  he  has  seen  all  of 
London,  for  no  human  being  has  yet  accom- 
plished the  job.  There  are  as  many  people 
living  in  London  as  there  are  in  all  the  Do- 
minion of  Canada.  Just  the  water  mains  of 
the  city  if  stretched  in  a  straight  line  end  to 
end,  would  reach  from  there  to  New  York 
and  back  again  to  Liverpool.  If  we  could 
put  all  the  water  Londoners  consume  in  a 
year  into  a  canal  two  hundred  feet  wide  and 
twenty  feet  deep,  it  would  reach  six  hun- 
dred miles — as  far  as  from  Shanghai  to 
Hankow,  or  from  New  York  to  Cleveland, 
or  from  San  Diego  to  San  Francisco. 

You  will  notice  at  once  that  London  is 
left-handed.  Posted  up  in  the  middle  of  all 
the  principal  streets  in  conspicuous  places 
you  will  see  signs  reading  ''Keep  to  the 
left."  All  vehicles  observe  this  rule  and  all 
passing  pedestrians.  The  omnibuses  halt  on 
the  left-hand  corner  also. 


Europe,  World's  Pla\)grouTid  1  35 

The  parks  are  the  lungs  of  London  and 
thei'c  are  more  than  a  hundred  of  these 
breathing  spots.  You  motor  through  Rich- 
mond Park  when  you  go  out  to  Hampton 
Court,  following  winding  roads  beneath  the 
shade  of  great  oaks  a  century  old  under 
which  herds  of  deer  are  feeding.  Beverly 
Brook  flows  through  this  splendid  princi- 
pality of  22,000  acres  which  belongs  to  the 
crown  and  is  the  royal  hunting  ground. 

In  Paris  one  is  impressed  with  the  me- 
morials to  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  with  his 
magnificent  tomb  under  the  golden  dome  of 
l)es  Invalides,  and  the  numerous  memorial 
monuments  and  arches  placed  in  his  honor 
along  the  parks  and  boulevards.  In  London 
you  are  continually  reminded  of  great  lit- 
erary lights — of  Dickens  and  Thackeray,  of 
(leorge  Eliot  and  Charles  Reade,  of  Dr. 
Johnson  and  hosts  of  others. 

There's  Piccadilly  and  Maj^fair  and  Saf- 
fron Hill  with  its  memories  of  Oliver  Twist; 
tliere's  Disraeli's  birthplace  and  Garrick's 
home,  and  Washington  Irving 's  "Little 
!>i*itain";  there  are  the  homes  of  Reynolds 
and  Sir  Isaac  Newton;  there  are  recollections 
of  Nell  Gwynne,  of  Swan  Walk  and  Mr. 
Pepys  of  Vanity  Fair,  and  there's  the  Old 


136  Journeying   Round   the    World 

Curiosity  Shop  standing  on  a  corner — now 
a  picture  shop  where  you  go  to  prowl  about. 
The  old  names  of  London  streets  are  a 
study  in  themselves.  Milton  was  born  in 
Bread  street,  and  Sir  Thomas  Moore  close 
by  in  Milk  street.  There's  Pudding  Lane 
and  Poultry  street  which  opens  into  Duck- 
foot  Lane.  There's  Leather  street  too,  and 
this  quaint  old  custom  harks  back  to  the 
time  when  it  was  the  habit  to  name  streets 
according  to  the  business  carried  on  in  them. 
One  knew  exactly  where  the  bakers  and 
butchers  and  shoemakers  were  by  the  name 
of  the  street  or  lane. 


Money  the  World  Around. 

Talk  about  the  mysteries  of  the  stock  ex- 
change. They  are  as  nothing  compared  with 
the  reduction  of  our  American  dollars  and 
dimes  into  yen,  sen,  rin  and  heaven  knows 
what  other  denominations. 

There  is  always  a  rate  of  exchange  ex- 
a(;ted,  and  in  the  course  of  a  journey 
through  the  Orient  or  through  Europe 
where  the  money  changes  in  every  country 
you  ai'e  surprised  to  see  how  much  is  eaten 
uj)  in  the  mere  exchange  from  one  currency 
into  another.  The  tale  is  told  of  a  traveler 
who  left  Singapore  with  $100  Mexican  as  a 
surplus  in  his  pocket  and  by  the  time  he 
reached  Peking  the  whole  amount  was  re- 
duced to  four  dollars  just  by  the  mere 
matter  of  transition  from  the  coin  of  one 
realm  into  that  of  another. 

Really  one  needs  to  be  a  fairly  good 
arithmetician  to  travel  the  world  around 
and  keep  accurate  track  of  this  conversion 
of  dollars  and  cents  into  yen  and  sen,  rupees 
and  piastres,  lira  and  francs,  marks  and 
pfennige,  shillings  and  pence. 

137 


138  Journeying   Round   the    World 

When  you  reach  Japan  you  feel  rather 
rich  to  find  that  one  dollar  of  your  money 
is  worth  two  of  theirs,  and  the  same  condi- 
tion prevails  in  China  where  the  Mexican 
dollar  is  the  standard.  Down  in  Ceylon  you 
reach  the  land  of  the  rupee  and  you  discover 
that  it  takes  three  of  these  silver  coins  about 
the  size  of  our  fifty-cent  piece  to  make  a  dol- 
lar in  our  money.  Your  hotel  bills  in  Cairo 
will  be  made  out  with  the  piastre — its  value 
is  five  cents  in  our  money — as  a  basis.  At 
first  glance  you  are  rather  appalled  to  see 
the  total  summed  up  in  three  figures,  but  re- 
assured when  you  realize  that  it  is  in 
nickels  and  not  dollars. 

In  the  Orient,  prices  at  the  best  hotels 
average  about  $3.50  per  day,  United  States 
money,  while  at  excellent  European  pen- 
sions and  some  of  the  most  comfortable 
hotels  you  may  find  good  accommodations 
at  from  $1.50  to  $2  per  day.  In  Jerusalem 
we  found  a  delightful  hotel  at  $2.50  per 
day.  In  the  best  hotels  in  Shanghai  there 
is  a  uniform  price  for  laundry — five  sen 
(two  and  one-half  cents)  per  article,  be  it  a 
handkerchief,  an  embroidered  petticoat,  or 
a  pleated  shirt  waist — and  it  is  beautifully 
done.     On  the  contrary,  I  paid  in  Cairo 


Mone\),  the  World  Around  139 

twenty-four  piastres  ($1.20)  for  the  laun- 
dering of  a  shirt  waist  —  and  it  was  very 
indifferently  done,  limp  and  quite  guiltless 
of  starch,  and  from  its  general  appearance 
of  lassitude  and  frailty  I  suspected  that  the 
washboard  used  was  the  bed  of  stones  on 
the  borders  of  the  Nile. 

In  China  you  never  know  from  one  day 
to  the  next  exactly  what  your  good  Amer- 
ican dollar  is  worth,  for  the  rate  of  ex- 
change varies  from  day  to  day.  Every 
morning  there  is  posted  up  in  a  conspic- 
uous place  in  your  hotel  a  bulletin  stating 
the  rate  of  exchange  for  that  day.  It  is 
well,  ]:>efore  you  start  out  on  a  shopping 
trip  in  the  Orient,  to  go  to  a  bank,  steam- 
ship company  or  reliable  tourist  agency 
and  get  your  bills  of  large  denomination 
changed  into  small  coins  to  avoid  the  nec- 
essity of  accepting  much  change  in  the 
shops,  otherwise  you  run  a  risk  of  getting 
a  lot  of  counterfeit  money. 

And  this  matter  of  counterfeit  money  is 
one  that  you  must  watch  the  world  around. 
When  we  reached  Naples,  Italy  was  strug- 
Gfling  with  a  mass  of  counterfeit  coins  in 
the  shape  of  the  20-centime  piece  (equal 
to  four  cents  United  States  money)   and 


140  Journeying  Round   the    World 

which  corresponds  in  their  ratio  to  the 
American  nickel.  The  Italian  government 
had  issued  a  quantity  of  these  coins  to  the 
value  of  10,000,000  francs  some  3^ears 
before,  and  it  had  been  discovered  that  be- 
tween 30,000,000  and  40,000,000  francs 
were  then  in  circulation  in  the  shape  of 
these  coins — all  the  overplus  being  coun- 
terfeit. An  edict  was  issued  recalling  all 
these  coins  and  published  in  the  Italian 
papers,  but  tourists  not  familiar  with  that 
language  or  the  coins  were  naturally  the 
sufferers,  as  the  natives  ''unloaded"  those 
20-centime  pieces  without  mercy  on  the 
strangers  within  their  gates.  I  had  some- 
thing like  three  dozen  of  them  on  hand 
when  we  awoke  to  the  game,  but  I  managed 
to  get  rid  of  them  by  judicious  shopping, 
tendering  two  or  three  of  the  suspicious 
coins  for  each  bill  of  goods  and  utterly  re- 
fusing to  accept  the  goods  at  all  unless  the 
coins  were  recognized  at  their  full  value  as 
part  payment.  Since  the  government 
would  be  forced  to  eventually  accept  them, 
no  merchant  with  whom  I  dealt  in  Sorrento 
or  N'aples  could  quite  bring  himself  to  sac- 
rifice a  sale  which  perhaps  totaled  several 
lire  for  the  sake  of  discarding  a  few  of  the 


Money),  the  World  Around  141 

eentiiiie  pieces.  In  this  way  I  turned  to 
account  my  whole  stock  of  20-centime 
pieces  and  accepted  no  more  unless  they 
were  of  the  bright,  new  coinage  fresh  from 
the  mint  that  was  busy  turning  out  good 
coins  to  take  the  place  of  the  old  ones. 

In  Italy,  Switzerland,  Belgium  and 
France  you  reckon  with  the  lire  or  franc 
— each  worth  twenty  cents  in  United  States 
money — as  a  basis;  in  Germany,  Denmark, 
Norway  and  SAveden,  it  is  the  mark  or 
crown,  value  about  twenty-five  cents;  in 
Egypt  and  Turkey,  the  })iastre,  value  five 
cents,  is  your  standard  of  valuation;  in 
S])ain  the  peseta,  value  twenty  cents;  in 
Ilolland  the  florin,  value  forty  cents.  When 
you  reach  England,  bear  in  mind  that, 
wliereas  your  American  dollar  was  woi*th 
two  in  the  native  cash  of  the  Far  East,  the 
reverse  is  true  here  concerning  your  shil- 
lings and  pence.  Otherwise  you  may  over- 
estimate the  purchasing  power  of  your 
money  and  be  somewhat  surpi-ised  when  the 
clerk  in  the  London  shop  returns  your 
change  and  you  realize  that  the  English 
shilling  means  the  American  quarter. 

Letters  of  credit  through  your  home 
bank,    or   travelers'    checks    in    denomina- 


1 42  Journeying   Round    the    World 

tions  of  $50  or  $25,  issued  by  banks,  inter- 
national express  companies,  tourist  agen- 
cies or  steamship  lines  are  always  available 
and  are  safe  and  convenient  ways  of  carry- 
ing funds. 


Tips  and  Tipping. 

If  you  ask  the  average  traveler  what  are 
the  most  prolific  sources  of  annoyance  en 
tour,  I  venture  to  say  that  nine  out  of 
every  ten  will  reply,  "Baggage  and  tips." 

The  term  "Tip,"  I  understand,  origin- 
ated from  a  custom  of  English  waiters  in 
cafes  and  restaurants  who  placed  boxes  at 
the  entrance  labeled  "To  Insure  Prompt- 
ness," into  which  coins  were  dropped  by 
patrons  who  wished  to  secure  prompt  at- 
tention— and  were  willing  to  pay  extra  for 
it.  The  initial  letters  of  thi&  significant 
phrase  form  the  magic  word. 

The  protests  that  have  arisen,  long,  loud 
and  emphatic,  from  American  tourists 
against  the  custom  of  tipping  have  resulted 
in  the  doing  away  with  the  custom  entirelv 
in  at  least  one  London  hotel  and  I  believe 
ill  several  Parisian  hostelries.  Neverthe- 
k'ss,  this  custom,  introduced,  it  must  ))e 
remembered,  and  fostered  by  the  Amer- 
icans tliemselves,  bids  fair  to  die  hard.  At 
Shepheard's  Hotel  in  Cairo  the  raft  of  at- 
tendants who  always  line  uj)  to  speed  the 

143 


144  Journeying   Round   the    World 

parting  guest  have  been  dubbed  the  ''Shep- 
heard's  flock"  by  a  humorous  tourist.  The 
morning  we  left,  after  a  week's  stay  at 
this  famous  hostelry,  we  passed  through  a 
double  lin  e  of  expectant  Arabs  and  Be- 
douins ranged  on  the  piazza.  Some  of 
them  we  had  never  seen,  and  most  of  them 
had  not  rendered  us  the  slightest  service, 
but  there  they  stood  with  eager,  expectant 
faces,  as  relentless  and  stolid  as  the  Pyra- 
mids themselves. 

In  Jerusalem  the  problem  of  tips  was 
solved  in  this  wise:  Posted  on  the  door  of 
your  room  was  a  printed  notice  to  the  effect 
that  no  tips  were  allowed  in  that  hotel,  as 
all  the  employees  received  fixed  salaries 
and  any  one  of  them  detected  in  the  act  of 
accepting  a  tip  would  be  summarily  dis- 
charged. Our  spirits  rose.  Ah!  Here  in 
the  Holy  Land  it  seemed  the  tourist  met 
with  Christian  consideration.  The  nui- 
sance of  distributing  piastres  and  pence 
right  and  left  was  done  away  with. 

But  hold  on!  Read  the  notice  a  little 
farther:  "Ten  per  cent  of  your  hotel  bill 
will  be  added  to  your  account  in  lieu  of 
tips."  This  was  an  ingenious  way  of  keep- 
ing the  fees  in  the  hands  of  the  proprietor. 


Tips  and   Tipping  145 

He  wasn't  a  Yankee  either,  but  a  thrifty 
German.  On  our  way  down  the  Khine  to 
Cologne  we  stopped  over  night  at  a  hotel 
in  Mainz.  We  left  by  the  first  steamer  next 
morning.  I  paused  at  the  desk  and  asked 
the  concierge  for  my  bill.  With  a  flourish 
he  replied,  "Your  account  is  being  made 
out  this  instant." 

One  would  have  thought  from  the  cere- 
mony that  the  bill  of  a  few  marks  for  a 
night's  lodging  and  breakfast  would  be  an 
itemized  account  involving  expert  book- 
keeping. After  waiting  so  long  that  I 
feared  I  would  miss  the  boat  the  concierge 
announced,  "Your  bill  is  ready,  Madame," 
indicating  with  a  wave  of  the  hand  some 
pci'sonage  in  my  rear.  I  turned  and  beheld 
a  da])per  young  fellow,  gotten  up  in  togs 
fit  for  a  courtier.  He  held  in  his  hand  a 
])ig  billhead,  which  he  presented  to  me  with 
a  flourish.  Stamped  conspicuously  in  one 
corner,  in  large  purple  type,  was  the  re- 
minder, "Tips  are  not  included  in  this  bill" 
— and  the  young  man  stood  there  with  out- 
stretched hands. 

Outside  was  the  porter  standing  guard 
over  my  suitcase;  the  head  waiter  held  my 
umbrella    which    I    had    momentarilv    set 


146  Journeying   Round   the    World 

down  by  the  desk;  the  two  "boots"  were 
fighting  for  the  possession  of  my  type- 
writer case,  and  the  "lift"  boy  was  trying 
to  relieve  me  of  my  hand  bag,  while  the 
smiling  concierge  stood  waiting  to  bid  me 
a  fond  farewell. 

"I  took  a  lady  to  the  theatre,"  relates 
one  tourist,  "and  my  tipping  bill  was  some- 
thing like  this — eleven  tips  in  all,  I  believe. 
I  tipped  the  boy  who  sprang  to  open  the 
cab  door,  tipped  cabby,  tipped  the  head 
usher,  gave  two  tips  in  the  dressing  rooms, 
tipped  the  girl  usher  who  brought  a  foot- 
stool for  the  lady,  tipped  the  boy  who 
handed  us  programmes,  tipped  the  waiter 
in  the  cafe  after  the  theater  and  the  boy 
who  took  our  wraps,  twice  tipped  the  cabby 
who  brought  us  home — once  at  the  lady's 
hotel,  and  once  at  my  own.  All  told,  my 
tips  exactly  doubled  the  total  cost  of  cab 
hire,  theater  tickets  and  supper. 

"At  another  hotel,  where  I  had  been  a 
guest  two  weeks,  I  asked  for  my  bill  on  my 
departure.  The  cashier  smilingly  informed 
me  that  it  would  be  ready  in  half  an  hour, 
at  the  end  of  which  time  it  was  presented 
by  a  chap  in  livery,  who  handed  me  the 


Tips  and   Tipping  147 

document  with  a  cordial  'And  how  do  you 
do  this  morning!' 

''I  looked  the  fellow  over,  whom  I  had 
never  laid  eyes  on  before,  and  said,  'Who 
the  deuce  are  you?' 

"  'I  have  charge  of  your  floor,  sir,'  he 
replied  expectantly  and  suavely. 

''I  grasped  his  outstretched  hand  and 
shook  it  heartily.  'I'm  delighted  to  meet 
you,  sir,'  I  said;  'I've  been  in  this  hotel  two 
weeks  and  this  is  the  first  time  I've  seen 
you.'    That  was  all  he  got  out  of  me." 

At  a  little  Italian  town  on  Lake  Como 
where  we  staid  over  Sunday,  I  happened 
to  find  on  the  register  of  the  hotel  the 
names  of  some  acquaintances  and  asked 
the  concierge  if  they  were  still  guests  of 
the  house. 

"No'm,  they  left  yesterday,"  he  replied, 
and  added  mournfully,  "They  said  nothing 
— they  left  nothing,"  and  I  observed  a 
cross  opposite  the  names  on  the  register, 
placed  there  I  suppose  as  a  warning  and  a 
reminder,  in  case  those  particular  travelers 
ever  again  registered  at  that  particular 
hotel,  that  no  douceurs  might  be  expected. 

A  lady  in  London  told  me  that  she  had 
refused     invitations     to     private     English 


148  Journeying  Round   the    World 

country  houses  because  she  could  not 
afford  the  expense  involved  in  the  tips 
expected  by  the  servants.  To  such  an  ex- 
tent has  this  nuisance  grown  that  in  some 
private  houses  where  large  house  parties 
are  entertained,  the  host  posts  notices  beg- 
ging his  guests  not  to  tip  the  servants,  as 
it  is  a  reflection  on  his  hospitality.  Never- 
theless, the  haughty  English  servant 
makes  a  visitor  feel  so  uncomfortable  un- 
less the  expected  tip  is  forthcoming  for 
the  slightest  service,  that  the  guest  does 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  ignore  it,  and  the  tips 
usually  involve  pounds,  instead  of  shillings 
and  sixpences,  in  these  houses,  too,  the  but- 
ler and  coachman  regarding  anything  less 
than  a  sovereign  beneath  their  notice. 

A  table  steward  on  one  of  the  big  ocean 
liners  did  not  hesitate  to  inform  a  clergy- 
man who  tendered  him  a  tip  of  five  dollars 
for  himself,  wife  and  young  son  on  a  short 
voyage,  that  they  were  accustomed  to  receive 
more  than  that,  and  his  air  of  hauteur  was 
chilling  enough  to  freeze  the  marrow  in  your 
bones.  The  deck  steward  on  this  same 
ship  confided  to  a  passenger  that  he  usually 
got  $175  in  tips  on  a  passage.  Since  this 
particular  ship  makes  two  trips  per  month, 


Tips  and   Tipping  149 

this  steward  receives  a  fairly  decent  sal- 
ary of  $350  per  month  in  tips  alone.  It  is 
said  that  in  the  large  European  hotels  the 
concierge  pays  the  proprietor  a  handsome 
sum  for  the  privilege  of  his  position,  receiv- 
ing no  salary  whatever  from  the  manage- 
ment, and  depending  solely  on  his  tips  for 
his  maintenance. 

A  guide  for  a  certain  tourist  agency  told 
me  that  he  had  purchased  a  country  home 
for  himself,  and  was  in  sufficiently  affluent 
circumstances  to  retire  if  he  chose,  and  yet 
his  salary  was  but  £2  10s  a  week,  and  he 
had  never  received  more  than  that,  and 
usually  less,  and  had  a  family  consisting  of 
a  wife  and  three  children  to  support. 
"Just  fawncy"  acquiring  independence 
and  affluence  on  a  salary  of  $12.50  per 
week!  Yet  this  man  had  accomplished  it, 
and  in  a  surprisingly  short  time.  Doubt- 
less the  tips  were  responsible  for  that 
country  place. 

However,  be  not  discouraged,  prospec- 
tive traveler,  for  it  is  but  justice  to  record 
that  tips  in  foreign  countries  mean  usually 
coins  of  small  denominations.  For  a  few 
centimes,  amounting  to  three  cents  in 
United  States  money,  willing  porters  will 


150  Journeying  Round   the    World 

carry  your  suitcase  from  train  to  omnibus; 
"boots"  and  the  "lift"  boy  do  not  expect 
big  tips,  and  carriage  hire,  as  compared 
with  American  charges,  is  a  mere  bagatelle. 
In  Rome  our  party  of  five  secured  an  excel- 
lent guide  for  twelve  francs  per  day,  and  a 
carriage  cost  us  eighteen  francs  per  day, 
which  made  our  per  capita  expenditure  but 
$1.20  per  day,  including  guide,  carriage  and 
tips.  We  were  driven  all  about  Rome,  visit- 
ing its  famous  places,  out  the  Appian  Way 
to  the  Catacombs,  and  our  guide  was  an  in- 
telligent, educated  and  refined  young  man 
who  spoke  English  fluently — and  five  other 
languages.  He  knew  his  Rome  perfectl}^  and 
drilled  us  on  dates,  early  and  late  Roman 
history,  art  and  artists,  like  a  professor  of 
ancient  and  modern  literature. 

It  was  in  Japan — and  only  Japan — that 
we  experienced  the  curious  sensation  of 
having  our  tips  refused.  It  was  on  a  rail- 
way train  going  up  to  Mkko  from  Tokyo. 
Just  before  arrival,  the  railway  official  who 
had  acted  as  conductor  entered  our  com- 
partment, whisk  broom  in  hand,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  "polish  us  off"  after  the  manner 
of  the  American  porter.  When  the  oper- 
ation was  over  and  we  tendered  a  tip,  what 


Tips  and   Tipping  151 

was  our  amazement  to  see  a  look  of  dire 
distress  on  the  face  of  the  polite  official 
who  vigorously  refused  to  accept  the  coins. 


Foreign  Food. 

One  of  the  penalties  of  the  privilege  of 
travel  is  the  strange  food  you  encounter, 
especially  in  the  Orient.  You  will  be  cau- 
tioned by  experienced  globe  trotters,  before 
you  leave,  not  to  indulge  in  salads  or  any 
uncooked  vegetables  that  grow  above- 
ground  in  the  Far  East,  as  the  methods  of 
irrigation  and  soil  cultivation  over  there  are 
not  strictly  sanitary  from  the  American 
viewpoint 

Although  in  practically  every  great  Ori- 
ental city  that  we  visited  we  found  splendid 
hotels  where  the  food  was  excellent,  yet  the 
foreigner  must  exercise  certain  precautions. 
In  Nanking  about  the  only  palatable  food 
offered  us  was  the  rice.  You  are  always  sure 
of  rice  in  China — and  well-cooked  rice,  too 
— for  the  Chinaman  knows  how  to  prepare 
his  standard  dish  much  better  than  the 
American  chef.  Every  kernel  of  rice  stands 
up  for  itself  individually — fluffy  and  distinct 
as  a  kernel  of  popped  corn.  If  you  can  eat 
curry,  so  much  the  better,  for  rice  and  curry 
is  the  national  dish  of  China. 

152 


Foreign  Food  153 

Then  there  are  eggs !  I  never  saw  so  many 
eggs  as  iu  Japan  and  China.  At  every  river 
station  where  our  steamer  stopped  on  the 
Yangtze,  quantities  of  eggs — in  boxes,  buc- 
kets, pails  and  bales — were  brought  on 
board.  You  will  find  chicken,  or  "poulet," 
— which  is  the  same  thing — on  practically 
every  menu  card  from  San  Francisco  to  New 
York.  Bamboo  sprouts  are  Oriental  deli- 
cacies, and  "capon  a  la  financiere"  was  a 
dish  with  a  significant  name  offered  on  the 
menu  card  of  a  Yokohama  hotel. 

You  will  of  necessity,  acquire  the  tea- 
drinking  habit  in  the  Far  East,  because  it 
is  safer  than  cold  water  with  its  lurking 
possibility  of  germs.  If  you  are  a  coffee 
connoisseur,  then  prepare  to  abolish  the  cof- 
fee-drinking habit  from  the  time  you  touch 
Oriental  soil  till  you  land  in  Switzerland, 
Germany  or  France.  It's  astonishing  how 
quickly  one  can  break  away  from  a  life-long 
habit  under  certain  circumstances.  Hither- 
to, T  had  been  dependent  on  my  cup  of  cof- 
fee for  breakfast  as  a  morning  appetizer,  but 
after  struggling  in  vain  to  swallow  the  slop- 
py mess  offered  under  that  name  in  foreign 
countries,  I  abandoned  the  attempt  and  for 
three  months  never  tasted  mv  accustomed 


154  Journe}fing   Round    the    World 

morning  beverage,  substituting  tea  or  cocoa. 
Whereas  I  had  thought  it  a  sure  forerunner 
of  headache  to  be  deprived  of  my  favorite 
drink  at  home,  I  found  that  no  disagreeable 
results  followed  my  abstemiousness  abroad. 
All  of  which  furnishes  an  excellent  argu- 
ment for  the  advocates  of  temperance  from 
all  stimulants. 

In  Cairo  you  will  find  butter  and  cheese, 
"fromage  et  beurre"  as  it  appears  on  the 
menu  card,  relegated  to  dessert,  and  be  not 
alarmed,  neither  seek  too  literal  a  transla- 
tion, if  you  see  "Poulet  grille  a  la  Diable," 
in  the  list  of  eatables  with  a  French  name 
placed  before  you. 

In  Europe  you  get  the  ''Continental 
breakfast" — which  means  coffee  or  cocoa, 
rolls  and  fruit- — nothing  more — unless  you 
pay  extra  for  it,  but  you  may  always  order, 
eggs,  omelettes  or  other  dishes  if  desired, 
aside  from  that  offered  as  the  regular  break- 
fast. If  you  are  fond  of  unsalted  butter, 
then  the  European  article  offered  for  your 
consumption  will  meet  your  approval — 
otherwise  you  may  relieve  its  freshness  with 
a  dextrous  flirt  of  the  salt  shaker.  Dr.  Bur- 
dette  says  that  if  one  has  mastered  the 
continental  breakfast  and  fresh  butter  he 


Foreign  Food  155 

will  pass  for  a  finished  European  traveler. 
Milk  chocolate  is  the  great  American  food 
on  the  European  continent.  Every  tourist 
has  an  ample  supply  in  his  pocket.  I  actu- 
ally believe  that  tons  of  chocolate  are  con- 
sumed every  year  by  American  travelers. 
The  annual  production  of  a  single  Swiss 
manufacturer  is  250,000,000  tablets.  The 
chocolate  shops,  and  there  is  one  in  every 
block  of  every  city,  village,  hamlet  or  way 
station,  do  a  tremendous  business.  I  count- 
ed no  less  than  twenty  brands  of  chocolate 
at  a  single  shop  in  a  little  Swiss  village,  and 
the  ])ro])rietor  told  me  that  she  sold  pounds 
of  it  every  day.  The  chocolate  habit  in 
Eiu'ope  is  more  prevalent  than  the  gum 
cliewing  crime  in  America.  Pure  milk 
chocolate  is  surely  an  ideal  food  for  travel- 
ers. It  requires  no  preparation,  and  one 
can  comfortably  subsist  on  it  longer  than 
upon  any  other  food  as  easily  and  cheaply 
obtained.  I  met  a  couple  traveling  with 
their  two-year-old  son,  and  the  mother  told 
mo  that  the  child's  sole  subsistence  was  milk 
chocolate,  and  he  thrived  wonderfully  on  the 
diet.  **I  simply  give  him  all  he  wants  at 
regular  intervals,"  she  said,  **and  he  never 
tires  of  it." 


156  Journe\)mg   Round   the    World 

The  little  French  patisseries  or  tea  rooms 
with  which  Paris  abounds  are  a  constant 
temptation  to  your  appetite,  with  the  dainty 
cakes  and  pastries  and  cups  of  delicious 
chocolate  or  coffee.  The  automat  is  the 
European  idea  of  the  American  cafeteria. 
I  met  it  first  in  Munich  and  afterward  in 
Nuremburg,  and  I  was  told  that  the  automat 
is  very  popular  all  through  Germany.  The 
food  is  ranged  on  counters  in  glass-covered 
receptacles.  If  you  want  a  sandwich,  a  piece 
of  cake  or  pie,  you  slip  a  coin  representing 
the  price,  which  is  posted  above  each  dish, 
into  the  slot,  and  immediately  that  plate  of 
sandwiches,  pies  or  cake,  begins  to  slowly 
revolve  and  your  particular  portion  slides 
automatically  through  the  opening  onto  the 
plate  waiting  to  receive  it.  After  you  have 
secured  what  you  desire  in  solid  foods,  you 
approach  the  ''beverage  fountain,"  put  the 
price  in  the  slot,  and  your  cup  under  the 
faucet  and  the  tea,  coffee  or  cocoa — which- 
ever faucet  you  choose — begins  to  flow.  As 
the  liquid  nears  the  top  of  your  cup  you 
fairly  hold  your  breath  for  fear  it  will  over- 
flow, but  no,  it  always  stops  automatically 
just  half  an  inch  from  the  brim  of  the  cup. 


Foreign  Food  1 5  7 

It  it  very  interesting  to  watch  the  automat 
work. 

You  will  be  genuinely  convinced  that  you 
have  never  tasted  real  weiners  until  you 
have  patronized  the  famous  Bratwurst 
Glocklein  in  Nuremberg.  It  is  today  pre- 
cisely as  it  was  a  century  or  more  ago — a 
little  "lean-to"  against  the  side  of  a  fam- 
ous church.  Not  more  than  twenty-five  or 
thirty  people  can  crowd  around  the  three 
ta])les  within  the  little  building,  in  one  end 
of  which  is  the  huge  range  where,  on  the  bed 
of  glowing  coals,  you  can  see  the  weiners 
cooked  to  order.  Notwithstanding  the 
cramped  quarters,  it  often  happens  that  a 
thousand  people  dine  here  in  a  day.  In 
pleasant  weather  tables  are  spread  outside 
the  ])uilding  for  the  accommodation  of  the 
ovei'flow. 

"What  else  can  you  give  us?"  I  heard  a 
Boston  man  inquire  as  he  drained  his  third 
glass  of  German  beer  and  devoured  the  last 
crumb  of  his  hot  sausages,  "Nothing  but 
wurst  and  kraut,  ehT' 

"Yes,  sir,  we  can  give  you  some  more 
kraut  and  wurst,"  replied  the  waiter,  and 
tlie  oi'der  was  prom])tly  duplicated  by  the 
hungry  Bostonian. 


1 58  Journeying   Round   the    World 

In  Grindelwald,  we  were  entertained  at 
a  delightful  old  Swiss  chalet  half  a  century 
old,  and  drank  our  cocoa,  and  ate  honey 
fresh  from  the  hives  in  the  garden  below, 
from  a  breakfast  table  spread  on  the  upper 
balcony  of  the  chalet,  overlooking  the  valley 
of  the  Jungfrau. 

We  reached  Lucerne  on  the  Fourth  of 
July  and  the  dinner  card  at  our  hotel  an- 
nounced for  dessert,  "gateau  de  Taft."  The 
dining  room  was  filled  with  American  guests 
and  when  this  "piece  de  resistance"  ap- 
peared a  shout  of  applause  went  up.  The 
Presidential  cake  was  decorated  with  an 
imitation  of  a  log  cabin,  very  successfully 
done  in  candy  logs,  and  topped  by  a  tiny 
American  flag,  all  of  which  accentuated  the 
fact  that  the  common  idea  of  Europeans  is 
that  our  presidents  must  of  necessity  be 
born  in  log  cabins. 


Types  of  Travelers. 

After  all,  though  you  travel  the  wide 
world  over,  there  is  no  more  interesting 
stud}'  than  human  nature  itself  —  the  same 
old  human  nature  that  prevails  everywhere 
among  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Adam,  be 
they  black  or  white,  English,  Japanese,  Chi- 
nese, German,  French  or  any  other  nation- 
ality. You  meet  people  who  show  such  an 
utter  lack  of  appreciation  that  you  wonder 
why  they  travel.  In  the  great  art  galleries 
of  Europe  you  hear  expressions  showing 
such  hopeless  ignorance  that  your  rapture 
over  the  world's  masterpieces  is  momentar- 
ily eclipsed  by  the  absurdity  and  ludicrous- 
ness  of  the  comments. 

"Just  look  at  them  Cupids!"  exclaimed  a 
woman  as  she  pointed  at  the  exquisite 
cherubs  chiseled  from  marble  in  St.  Peter's 
at  Home. 

"That  there  statue  has  lost  its  head," 
ol)scrved  another  art  critic  leveling  a  finger 
at  the  "Winged  Victory." 

"Yes,  an'  here's  another  got  its  arms 
broke  off,"  responded  her  companion  as  she 

159 


160  Journeying   Round   the    World 

paused  beside  the  Venus  de  Milo.  "They 
must  have  awful  careless  janitors  over 
here. ' ' 

''This  is  a  copy  of  'The  Holy  Family,'  " 
explained  the  guide,  as  he  halted  before  a 
masterpiece. 

"He  says  that's  a  picture  of  'The  Whole 
Family,'  "  murmured  a  man  to  his  compan- 
ion. "Whose  family  does  he  mean,  I  won- 
guide  fairly  gasped  and  then  recovered  him- 
Family'  ever  since  we've  been  in  Rome. 
I'm  gong  to  ask  him.  Guide,  what  do  you 
mean  by  'The  Whole  Family"?"  he  called 
out.    "Whose  family  is  it  anyhow?" 

There  was  an  awful  pause  in  the  group  of 
tourists  and  Peggy  actually  giggled.  The 
guide  fairly  gasped  and  then  recovered  him- 
self sufficiently  to  explain,  "Why,  sir,  the 
Holy  Family — Joseph  and  Mary  and  the 
child  Jesus. ' ' 

After  a  minute  the  idea  percolated 
through  the  gray  matter  of  the  tourist's 
brain  and  he  remarked  sotto  voce  to  his  com- 
panion, "Oh,  I  see!  He  says  'The  Holy 
Family' — 'H-o-l-l-y,'  you  know." 

This  was  almost  as  bad  as  the  man  who 
asked  why  it  was  that  the  Madonna  was 
always  represented  with  a  child  in  her  arms. 


Types  of  Travelers  161 

We  were  listening  with  awe  and  delight 
to  the  wonderful  musical  door  in  one  of  the 
cathedrals.  As  the  soft,  aeolian  tones  made 
sweetest  melody  while  the  monk  in  charge 
solemnly  swung  the  door  back  and  forth  and 
the  guide  was  explaining  to  us  the  mys- 
terious mechanism  of  the  door,  I  overheard 
a  tourist  who  had  just  come  up,  remark  in 
annoyed  tones: 

"If  I  only  had  a  can  of  oil,  I  could  stop 
the  squeaking  of  that  confounded  door. 
Why  don't  they  keep  things  up  better  over 
here,  anyway?" 

The  throngs  of  copyists  in  the  picture  gal- 
leries of  Rome  and  Florence  and  other  Euro- 
pean art  centers  are  a  study  in  themselves 
— old,  bent,  white-haired  men,  attractive  or 
plain-featured  young  women,  wild-bearded 
artists  and  pale-faced  geniuses  sit  or  stand 
before  their  easels  copying  the  work  of  the 
great  masters.  In  the  Pitti  gallery  in  Flor- 
ence there  seemed  to  be  a  perfect  craze  for 
copying  on  a  single  large  canvas — not  one 
picture  but  the  complete  salon,  or  as  much 
of  it  as  can  be  seen  from  a  given  point  —  a 
corner  and  the  two  walls  leading  from  it, 
including  the  frescoed  ceiling.  In  one  of  the 
salons  where  this  view  gave  some  of  the 


162  Journeying   Round    the    World 

most  famous  paintings,  I  paused  before  the 
easel  of  a  young  man  who  was  just  putting 
the  finishing  touches  to  such  a  picture.  It 
was  a  magnificent  piece  of  work,  the  colors 
true,  and  the  reproduction,  which  included 
a  splendid  piece  of  sculpture  by  a  master 
hand,  almost  perfectly  done.  I  admired  the 
painting  and  asked  the  price.  He  was  an 
Italian  artist  and  spoke  no  English  but  sum- 
moned an  American  fellow  worker  who 
acted  as  interpreter  and  who  said  the  price 
was  500  lire  ($100).  He  had  been  three 
months  constantly  at  work  on  the  canvas. 
At  this  rate  his  daily  wage  would  amount 
to  less  than  that  of  the  humblest  day  laborer 
with  pick  and  shovel  in  America. 

It  was  a  Chicago  man  who,  when  told  that 
six  centuries  were  consumed  in  the  building 
of  the  great  cathedral  at  Cologne,  ex- 
claimed, ''Is  it  possible?  We  could  build  it 
in  Chicago  in  six  months." 

"There's  only  a  few  pictures  that 
daughter  and  I  care  to  see,  anyhow,"  said 
a  Missouri  woman  in  the  Pitti  gallery.  "I've 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  most  of  the  art 
galleries  in  Yurrup  are  alike.  You've  seen 
one  and  you've  seen  'em  all.  The  only  dif- 
ference is  that  some  of  'em  have  the  Old 


T})pes  of  Travelen  163 

Masters'  paintings  in  'em  and  others  have 
just  copies  and  the  first  are  the  best.  I  want 
to  see  Titian's  'Baby  Stuart'  here.  That's 
what  I  come  to  this  gallery  for.  Daughter 
and  I  both  paint — I  in  oils  and  she  in  pastel 
— and  the  walls  of  our  home  in  Missouri  are 
just  covered  with  our  pictures,  and  I  must 
say  I'd  give  more  for  'em  than  for  all  there 
is  here" — with  a  sweeping  gesture  that  in- 
cluded Raphael's  "Madonna,"  Andrea  del 
Sarto's  "Saint  John  the  Baptist"  and  about 
a  dozen  other  masterpieces,  before  which 
artists  of  all  the  ages  since  have  knelt  in 
wonder  and  admiration. 

Americans  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed 
with  the  air  of  leisurely  dignity  which  is 
characteristic  of  the  natives  of  the  Far  East 
which  makes  our  American  scramble  seem 
most  undignified,  unbecoming,  and  even 
rude.  This  unseemly  haste  pervades  our 
very  speech.  When  in  Germany  we  had 
reached  a  town  where  quite  unexpectedly 
we  were  required  to  change  cars,  and  I 
sought  some  one  who  understood  English  in 
order  to  get  the  necessary  information.  I 
was  directed  to  a  young  man  who  was  said 
to  speak  English,  and  I  approached  him  and 
fluently  made  my  wants  and  wishes  known, 


164  Journeying   Round    the    World 

speaking  at  a  rather  rapid  rate.  He  regard- 
ed me  curiously,  listened  attentively  to  my 
flow  of  eloquence,  while  gradually  a  puzzled 
expression  stole  over  his  features,  and 
finally  he  said  in  his  slow,  German  way: 

"Pardon  me,  Madame,  but  could  you 
speak  English?  I  do  not  understand  your 
language.'^ 

It  was  too  rapid  to  be  recognized. 

A  young  German  girl  who  was  slowly 
acquiring  the  English  language  listened 
with  awe  and  admiration  to  the  gay  con- 
versation of  a  party  of  young  Americans, 
one  of  whom  remarked  concerning  her  com- 
panion, "Oh,  she's  not  the  only  pebble  on 
the  beach." 

The  German  girl  pondered  over  this 
phrase — for  the  American  slang  caught  her 
admiration  and  this  was  quite  the  latest  she 
had  heard  of  this  strange  and  fascinating 
dialect.  Then  she  announced  to  her  startled 
mother: 

"IVe  got  it — this  delightful  American 
slang.  Here's  the  latest:  'She's  not  the 
only  peoples  on  the  bench',"  and  the  two 
shrieked  with  laughter  and  delight. 

In  Palestine  I  met  an  old  lady  more  than 
seventy  years  of  age  who  was  traveling  with 


T}fpes  of  Travelers  165 

a  personally  conducted  party,  and  she  in- 
formed me  in  a  burst  of  confidence  that  she 
had  brought  along  an  extra  set  of  false  teeth 
for  fear  she  might  break  the  ones  she  wore. 
On  the  other  hand  she  had  forgotten  her 
watch. 

One  of  the  happiest,  most  cheerful  people 
I  saw  in  all  my  journey  round  was  a  para- 
lyzed Englishman  who  couldn't  walk  a  step 
and  was  carried  down  to  the  dining  saloon 
for  each  meal  by  his  valet  and  one  of  the 
stewards.  He  and  his  chum,  an  English 
earl,  cracked  jokes  and  dispensed  fun  all  day 
long  until  their  particular  corner  of  the  deck 
became  famous  for  its  good  cheer  and  the 
hearty  peals  of  laughter  that  continually 
emanated  from  it. 

Then  there  was  the  Grumbler — a  man 
worth  a  million,  but  so  stingy  that  he  was 
in  a  constant  state  of  perturbation  lest  he 
be  fleeced.  He  antagonized  every  hotel 
keeper  from  Shanghai  to  London  from  the 
minute  he  entered  the  hostelry  and  began 
to  jew  down  the  rates;  he  called  everything 
** graft''  from  the  tiny  tip  he  grudgingly 
gave  his  steward  to  the  hard-earned  yen  he 
grumblingly  paid  his  guide,  and  the  few  sen 
he  doled  out  to  his    'riksha  man  who  had 


166  Journe})ing  Around  the  World 

toted  him  all  over  Tokyo  for  hours.  He  ban- 
tered and  dickered  for  everything  and  was 
an  object  of  ridicule  and  contempt  the  world 
around  on  account  of  his  parsimony. 

In  London  I  met  a  tourist  from  Detroit 
who  gravely  assured  me  that  he  was  not 
attempting  to  do  anything  in  the  way  of 
sightseeing  in  this  greatest  city  on  earth 
except  by  way  of  the  underground  railways. 
I  gazed  at  him  in  amazement  and  inquired 
if  he  were  particularly  interested  in  subway 
construction  and  was  on  a  tour  of  investiga- 
tion, or  if  he  had  visited  London  so  often 
that  he  was  perfectly  familiar  with  it. 

' '  No — neither, ' '  he  replied  soberly.  ' '  This 
is  my  first  visit  to  London  and  I  am  merely 
on  a  sightseeing  trip,  but  it's  so  big  and  sort 
of  confusing  that  I've  decided  to  leave  the 
surface  till  next  time  and  do  the  under- 
ground thoroughly — going  from  the  bottom 
up,  as  it  were,"  and  he  proceeded  to  show 
me  a  map  of  the  tube  railways  of  the  city. 
''You  see,  I  have  become  quite  expert  in 
finding  my  way  about  in  these  subways,"  he 
confided  with  an  air  of  modest  pride  as  he 
pointed  out  the  stations  and  different  lines 
of  underground  roads.  "It  is  far  less  nerve- 
racking  than  to  keep  above  ground,"  he 


T})pes  of  Travelers  167 

went  on.  "Oh,  yes,  I  occasionally  come  up 
to  the  surface  at  some  interesting  point. 
I  visited  Westminster  Abbey  yesterday.  I 
simply  went  underground  at  Russell  Square 
you  see,  changed  cars  twice  in  the  subway 
and  emerged  at  the  Parliament  Building 
right  opposite  the  Abbey;  escaped  the  con- 
fusion of  these  left-handed  omnibuses, 
motors  and  trams,  and  arrived  at  my  des- 
tination quite  simply  as  it  were.  Another 
advantage  in  underground  travel,**  he  con- 
tinued, *'is  that  you  escape  the  annoyance 
of  rain.  Now  we  had  a  sudden  shower  yes- 
terday, and  many  pedestrians  on  the  sur- 
face were  caught  unawares  without  umbrel- 
las. I  was  underground,  safe  and  snug,  and 
knew  nothing  of  the  storm  till  I  came  to  the 
surface  and  found  the  streets  soaking." 


Homeward  Bound. 

Homeward  bound  at  last,  after  months  of 
travel  in  foreign  lands,  and  as  your  ship 
slips  her  anchor  and  swings  away  from  the 
wharf,  heading  out  to  sea  toward  ''the  home 
of  the  brave  and  the  land  of  the  free,"  your 
heart  sings  in  rapture.  Glad  to  come  home  ? 
Why,  half  the  joy  of  this  journey  round  the 
world  is  in  the  getting  home  again.  You 
observe  that  practically  all  the  passengers 
are  in  a  state  of  mental  review  of  their  for- 
eign experiences.  It's  the  first  opportunity 
they've  had  to  sit  quietly  down  and  sum  up 
the  trip.  Whereas  all  conversation  on  your 
outward-bound  trip  was  in  the  future  tense, 
now  it  is  in  the  past.  Notes  are  compared, 
and  everyone  has  time  to  mentally  digest 
and  assimilate  the  incidents  of  travel. 

About  the  fourth  day  out  from  Liverpool, 
the  peaceful  mental  meditations  of  passen- 
gers are  somewhat  disturbed  and  brought 
abruptly  to  a  focus  by  the  sudden  realiza- 
tion that  there  is  yet  another  strange  expe- 
rience to  be  reckoned  with.  You  find  in 
your    cabin,    in    a    conspicuous    place,    a 

168 


Homervard  Bound  169 

declaration  blank  on  which  you  are 
requested  to  file  a  list  of  your  purchases 
abroad.  A  quiver  of  suppressed  excitement 
runs  like  an  electric  thrill  among  the  pas- 
sengers, especially  the  female  contingent. 
Cabin  doors  that  had  hitherto  swung  open 
in  frank  and  unconcealed  candor,  suddenly 
become  exclusively  closed.  There  are  whis- 
pered conferences  among  women,  myste- 
rious nods  and  interrogative  queries.  After 
a  little  you  observe  that  all  the  desks  in  the 
writing  room  are  appropriated  and  long  lists 
of  goods  and  chattels  acquired  abroad  are 
being  checked  up  by  anxious-faced  women. 
The  declaration  is  a  straight  up-and-down 
document.  Uncle  Sam  asks  you  to  defin- 
itely declare  what  goods  you  have  acquired 
abroad,  whether  by  purchase  or  gift, 
whether  in  your  baggage,  on  your  person, 
used  or  unused,  and  you  are  warned  that 
you  will  be  required  to  swear  before  a  no- 
tary on  your  arrival  that  you  have  made  an 
honest  and  truthful  declaration,  and  you  are 
further  admonished  in  a  foot-note  that,  in 
case  you  are  detected  in  untruthful  state- 
ments, you  will  be  liable  to  arrest  and  im- 
prisonment. In  short,  you  are  reduced  to 
the  extremity  of  telling  the  exact  truth, 


1  70  Journe}fing  Around  the  World 

"the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth,"  or  its  opposite,  and  thereby  brand- 
ing yourself  as  a  liar  and  laying  up  a  heap 
of  trouble. 

The  girl  who  had  planned  to  land  in  New 
York  wearing  two  Paris  silk  petticoats,  a 
new  London  suit,  a  pair  of  long  white  kid 
gloves,  a  sweeping  ostrich  plume  pinned  on 
her  United  States  hat,  a  Florentine  mosaic 
bracelet  on  her  arm,  a  string  of  Roman 
pearls  with  a  Jerusalem  mother-of-pearl 
pendant  and  a  dog-collar  of  Naples  corals 
around  her  neck,  suddenly  abandoned  the 
idea.  "What's  the  use?"  she  said,  "if  I've 
got  to  declare  everything  I  have  on  I  might 
as  well  pack  'em. ' ' 

Wise  lady!  I  warn  you,  don't  try  to  cheat 
Uncle  Sam.  If  you  do  there's  trouble  ahead. 
Pack  all  your  foreign  purchases  as  far  as 
possible  in  the  tray  of  your  trunk.  On  the 
declaration  blank,  do  not  attempt  to  make 
out  an  itemized  list  of  every  article,  but  sum 
up  under  a  heading  "Personal  Effects"  the 
amount  you  have  expended  for  such  things 
as  wearing  apparel.  Under  "Souvenirs" 
place  the  amount  represented  by  these  pur- 
chases; under  "Books  and  Pictures"  that 
spent  for  these,  etc.    It  is  well,  however,  to 


Homertfard  Bound  I  7 1 

make  out  on  a  separate  slip  for  your  per- 
sonal use,  and  to  submit  to  the  customs  offi- 
cer if  requested,  an  itemized  list,  together 
with  the  price  you  paid  for  each  article. 
You  are  entitled  to  one  hundred  dollars' 
worth,  duty  free.  After  you  have  filled  in 
your  declaration  blank,  return  it  to  the 
steward  who  will  tear  off  the  coupon  with 
corresponding  number  and  return  to  you. 
When  you  land,  present  the  coupon  at  the 
inspector's  window,  who  will,  by  comparing 
the  number,  find  your  declaration  blank 
which  has  been  turned  over  to  him  by  the 
ship's  purser,  and  you  will  take  oath  that 
the  signature  is  yours.  He  will  detail  an  offi- 
cer to  examine  your  baggage  and  he  will 
accompany  you  to  the  place  where  your 
effects  have  been  placed.  If  you've  been 
perfectly  frank  and  honest  in  your  declara- 
tion, you  have  nothing  to  fear  and  will  find 
the  officer  courteous  and  obliging — at  least, 
I  did. 

It  was  just  at  the  close  of  a  perfect 
autumn  day  that  our  good  ship  Arabic 
passed  into  New  York  harbor,  her  decks 
crowded  with  eager  faces  scanning  the  fa- 
miliar shores,  the  sky-scrapers  looming  up 
in  the  distance  like  huge  honeycombs  set  on 


1 11  Joume\fing  Around  the  World 

end.  As  our  ship  passed  the  Statue  of  Lib- 
erty, burnished  with  the  last  rays  of  the 
setting  sun,  there  broke  from  the  lips  of  the 
passengers  that  glorious  song  of  life  and  lib- 
erty, *'The  Star  Spangled  Banner,"  and 
tears  sprang  to  happy  eyes  which  looked 
for  the  first  time  in  many  months  upon  their 
native  land. 

Japan  has  her  pretty,  pink-cheeked  maid- 
ens, Hongkong  her  lovely  flowers,  Singa- 
pore her  luxuriant  growth  of  tropic  trees 
and  vegetation,  Egypt  her  fertile  fields  of 
the  Nile,  Palestine  her  orange  and  olive 
groves,  Italy  her  sunny  skies  and  smiling 
vineyards,  Switzerland  her  lofty  mountain 
peaks,  Germany  her  castled  Rhine,  Paris 
her  wide  boulevards  and  fascinating  shops, 
England  her  enchanting  reaches  of  country 
side — but  mine  own,  my  native  land,  thou 
hast  them  all — and  more. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 

This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


Komi  I,-ti 
l.iim-I.'iei,'..-.lli 


v.r.  i,ir  uaiNii^ 


F87j 

Freeman  - 
Journeying  round 

the  world. 

DEM  CO  It4N 

1 
1 

1 

UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


A  A      000  157  506    7 


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F87j 


